


Music to my Ears

by pinkwishoflemonade



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Classical Music, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Classical Music, College, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Gay, Happy Ending, I Love You, Kim Seokjin | Jin is Whipped, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Light Angst, Like, M/M, Min Yoongi | Suga Is Whipped, Moving On, Music Student Min Yoongi | Suga, No Smut, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Romance, Slow Burn, Soft Min Yoongi | Suga, Student Kim Seokjin | Jin, University Student Kim Seokjin | Jin, University Student Min Yoongi | Suga, and if you aren't, how's your day? what have you been up to? have you been eating alright?, i hope you're doing great, i just wanted to add some that were not as serious :), know that it will pass, since all of my tags are serious, thank you for reading through these tags lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkwishoflemonade/pseuds/pinkwishoflemonade
Summary: Yoonjin College/Musical AU"Arriving at the classroom, panting and out of breath, Yoongi flung the sliding doors open to reveal an unusual sight: a stunningly beautiful man sat slouched against the wall, tears streaming down his perfectly clear skin."Yoongi, a student at Seoul National University, rushes to practice room 304 to prepare for the upcoming competition that will make or break his budding career as a professional pianist when he finds a mysterious crying stranger slouched against the wall.
Relationships: Kim Seokjin | Jin/Min Yoongi | Suga
Comments: 82
Kudos: 70





	1. That September Day

The sound of heavy footsteps rang throughout the empty hallways of Seoul National University. Class having gone overtime by 30 minutes, Yoongi found himself rushing to his oft-frequented practice room in class 304, eager to start preparing for the piano competition that was a mere three months away. He had already spent many days mastering Liszt's Liebestraum compositions, recalling countless hours sleeping on the piano when fatigue would strike randomly in the middle of practice.

But those hours didn't matter, he thought, for this was the competition that could kickstart his budding career as a professional pianist. If he won, he would get the opportunity of a lifetime to study abroad in Germany amongst the brightest and most talented musicians of his generation. Yoongi would do anything and everything in his power to secure that first place prize.

Arriving at the classroom, panting and out of breath, Yoongi flung the sliding doors open to reveal an unusual sight: a stunningly beautiful man sat slouched against the wall, tears streaming down his perfectly clear skin. Though his eyes were red and puffy, Yoongi couldn't help but take notice of this stranger's pristine beauty, undisturbed by his obvious display of emotions.

Unaware that he was staring for a second too long, Yoongi, heart racing, was now out of breath for a different reason.

"Do you need something?" The stranger's melodious voice reached out.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone would be using this room right now..." Yoongi went to close the doors and exit before the voice piped up again.

"Don't worry. Stay! Do whatever you need to do. Act like I'm not even here." His voice was beautiful even when shaking.

"...Thank you," Yoongi replied, as he awkwardly stumbled into the room and onto the piano seat. He let out an audible gulp before resting his hands gently on the ivory keys and letting the notes of Liebestraum sing to their heart's content.

Yoongi felt a complex mix of apprehension and uncontrollable pride. Whenever he played alone in this room, the notes of the piano simply floated in the air, escaping out of the ribbon windows that framed the classroom, never to be seen again.

This time was _different_.

Maybe because the weather was the perfect balance of cool and warm. Maybe because the falling autumn leaves outside created an orange glow that illuminated the keys _just_ right. But most likely due to the fact that he wanted to impress the pretty boy peacefully closing his eyes next to him, the notes seemed to dance and glide around the classroom, echoing and pulsating. It was as if when his hands touched each key, he brought them to life, the notes springing forth from the body of the instrument and savoring the short time that they had within the confines of practice room 304.

The stranger sat silently, being careful not to stir or make any sudden moves lest he interrupt this creative process. He let the notes filter through him, each thrum of an arpeggio sending slight electrical impulses throughout his body. It sounded exactly the way he imagined love felt like. Calm, yet soaring. Quiet, yet powerful. Liebestraum no. 3.  
  
  


_Love's Dream._   
  
  


As the notes died out and the song had come to a close, Yoongi reclined, letting his hands fall gracefully to his lap.

He heard the sound of slow clapping, and turned his head to see the beautiful stranger sitting upright, a small smile drawn out along their statuesque features.

"That was absolutely lovely! I'm glad I stayed to listen to this." He grinned. "You're very talented, you know."

"Thank you," Yoongi responded curtly, embarrassed by the sudden attention.

The stranger was about to make another comment when the doors swung open once again. A tall, tanned man intruded the quiet space, stomping around the class, eyes darting until they settled and stayed on the mysterious individual who had occupied the practice room floor.

"JIN!" The man snarled, his eyes a bloody red.

"Oh... oh no," Jin said, as he got up from his comfortable position against the wall. "Please don't do this in front of my friend...... my friend..." He snapped in the air, as if trying to recall some important information. He turned to Yoongi, who was sitting shocked on the piano chair. "Sorry, what's your name?"

"Uh... It's Min Yoongi."

"Ah......" Jin nodded solemnly before turning his attention back to the angry intruder. "Don't do this in front of my new friend Yoongi!"

"You didn't give me a chance to explain myself!" He drew closer.

"What is there to explain? I saw you kissing her in the parking lot after class, clear as day! I don't doubt what my eyes saw." Jin backed away towards the corner.

"She kissed me first!" The man was getting angrier, his chest heaving with every breath.

"Oh hoho ho!" Jin smiled, as a complicated expression of anger and jealousy and haughtiness played across his face. "Sure she did! As if the make-out session didn't drag on for _at least_ five minutes!"

"You don't understand. I _love_ you!"

They were an inch away from each other, Jin backed against the corner of the room with no escape in sight. The smile fell from his face as he steeled his nerves and stood his ground, staring directly into the eyes of the opposing man.

" _Like hell you do_ ," He spat.

Yoongi, still seated at his position behind the piano, couldn't quite see the looming figure in front of him despite his overwhelming presence. Instead, his eyes were locked onto Jin's, and he couldn't help but look anywhere else. Though Jin tried his best to stand tall, Yoongi could see that tears were threatening to burst from his eyes at any moment. His delicate hands were shaking. His previously melodious voice was wavering.

_Yoongi just couldn't stand it._

With footsteps that spoke of thunder, Yoongi made his way to Jin and placed himself between him and the man, his hand guiding Jin firmly behind his back.

"And who do you think you are?" The man glared, contempt written all over his burly features.

"Just like Jin said. I'm his new _friend_." Yoongi smiled to himself for making such a stupid joke, which came off instead as an air of unearned confidence. "Now, if you'll kindly leave, I would be happy to escort you out of the room."

Gesturing towards the door, Yoongi stood firm. He watched as the man glanced at him, then at the cowering Jin, too scared to move a muscle or to even meet his gaze. A flash of sadness crossed his eyes as he shrunk, willingly letting Yoongi shove him out of the room.

"There!" Yoongi clasped his hands together. "Just watched him round the corner, so I doubt he'll be sticking around," Yoongi said, quite satisfied. He shut the doors and turned around to face Jin, who subsequently collapsed to his knees. With a long sigh, Jin clutched his chest, hands still shaking from the upsetting encounter.

"Yoongi..." His already small voice trailed off. "I'm so glad you were here with me. I don't know what I would've done without you." He chuckled, clearly in shock, his laughter graced with the slightest hint of melancholy.

Yoongi rushed over to him. "It's okay now. I made sure he's gone." He said, in as soothing a voice he could muster.

"I know." Jin smiled. "And I'm grateful for it."

Jin got up off his knees and crawled back to the wall, relief seemingly escaping from his every pore. Yoongi, thinking that it would be strange to just start playing the piano again, settled himself next to him, placing some ample distance between them and making sure Jin was comfortable first before actually sitting down.

"I'm here if you need to talk," Yoongi said, resting his hands in his lap.

Jin closed his eyes and sighed once again. He took a moment to collect himself before answering. "I... I think I'll take you up on that offer. I've had _quite_ the day, after all."

Glaring daggers at the door that the intruder exited from, Jin started, "It's kinda cheesy to say, but it really is true what they say. Love is _hard_."

Yoongi prepared himself.

"One second you give him everything and then in another you find him kissing some pretty young thing like it's no big deal at all! I don't get it! I know that we had been... growing apart for some time now, but I would've never expected him to go and do something like... well, like this! It's not like I didn't love him—of course, I loved him—I was just... I was just busy."

He paused for some time, his long fingers repeatedly tracing the lines etched on the tile floor as he chewed his lip anxiously. Yoongi, noticing that it was hard for him to go on, rested his hand on his shoulder. Jin glanced over, flashing a weak smile before continuing on.

"I guess I saw the signs for a long time now, but I was helpless to do anything. Even if I tried to make things right, I just was never enough. It's like... I'm watching a movie of my own life." He looked up again, eyes welling with tears, before facing the floor, head drooping low in contemplation. "Someone inside my head _screams_ for me to do something, but I'm powerless until it's too late. And the movie ends just as soon as it had begun."

"As pathetic and equally narcissistic as this is for me to say, maybe all he saw in me was a pretty face." He laughed at his sarcasm, a low chuckle rising out of his throat. "He fell in love with the _idea_ of who I was, not the actual me. When he found out that I didn't match his perception of the perfect person, the dream shattered. He treated me differently."

Yoongi could feel Jin's shoulders tense up underneath his loose grip. 

"I think he was disappointed. He became distant. I noticed that he would spend so much time staring at his phone whenever we went out on dates. When I kissed him, he didn't kiss back. He wouldn't even _look_ at me anymore! Instead, he would... he would..." 

The first tear had crashed onto the linoleum tiles.

"And—and when I saw him kissing her... kissing her like she made him feel _alive_... it was like everything I had known was confirmed. I wasn't enough for him, and I knew it. I hated being right. _Why did I have to be right_? Maybe—maybe everything was my fault? Should I have tried harder? I don't know! I really don't..."

The tears came down like a hurricane, emotions swirling and storming in Jin's head. Yoongi said absolutely nothing, instead, choosing to wrap both of his arms around Jin and pull him to his chest. There was no hesitation or awkwardness in his movements—just warmth and affection where it was needed. The two stayed in that position for a while, Jin sobbing as Yoongi's arms held him so gently, so lovingly.

Jin had never felt so vulnerable before. But it wasn't the weak kind of vulnerable. It was the kind of vulnerable where he could be who he was and be accepted unconditionally. It was the kind of vulnerable where he could spill his thoughts freely without feeling like he over-shared or said too much. It was the kind of vulnerable where he felt seen. 

He was surprised at how wonderful crying could feel when wrapped in someone else's arms.

As Jin's sobs grew softer and softer, Yoongi finally spoke up.

"Are you okay now?" He whispered.

Jin nodded silently.

"Would you like me to walk you to your car to make sure he's not still around?"

"No..." Jin shook his head. "If you let me, could I just stay here and listen to you play for a little while longer?"

Without even making a sound, Yoongi carefully pulled himself away from Jin and sat down on the piano bench, giving his fingers a stretch before landing them on the keys.

As the notes filled the university hallways, as the sunset beamed through the window and enveloped room 304 in a warm haze, as Jin tapped his feet to the tune, and as Yoongi noticed that he was, the two sat and listened to the music, wishing and wanting for nothing. If they could stay like this for just one moment more...

No. This was more than enough.


	2. That September Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their serendipitous encounter extending into the night, Yoongi learns a shocking fact about Jin.

The sun had long since set as the campus lights flickered on, signaling that the night had come. Any students that were wandering after class were sure to have left by now, and even the janitorial staff, who were on a first name basis with Yoongi, knew that they could trust him to lock the doors and clean up whenever it was time to go home after practice. Yoongi had already run through all of the songs that he knew how to play, chatting aimlessly with Jin in between each new piece.

Feeling the pull of competition at his fingertips, Yoongi played _Liebestraum no. 3_ the equivalent of about 20 times, all the while a serious expression gripped his face. He had ceased talking for the remainder of the time, his performance anxiety prompting him to clam up. Jin, meanwhile, appeared to be sleeping comfortably against his part of the wall.

"UGH!" Yoongi dropped his head against the keyboard in frustration, causing Jin to wince from the dissonant cacophony of sound. "Why can't I get this part right? It always sounds like it's missing something..." His words trailed off, leaving him mumbling anxiously as his cheeks pressed up against the white keys. Jin walked over to the piano and glanced at the music sheet, eyes tracing each marking and measure.

After a minute of standing in silence, Jin pointed, provoking the familiar sound of paper rubbing against each other. 

"Your phrasing is off here," he said, somewhat quietly.

"...What?" Yoongi replied, rising from the keyboard.

"Your phrasing's off," Jin repeated, a little louder this time.

"No. I know that!" He broke into a grin. "You know how to read sheet music?"

"Yes, I do. Now, do you want me to show you how this should be played or not?" Jin smirked, exuding confidence. Yoongi, still in shock, moved over on the piano bench to make room for Jin, who gracefully slid into the seat.

It wasn't like anything Yoongi had ever heard before... or was it?

Sure, he had spent plenty of summer days listening to other competitors on stage give it their all in the hopes of winning first prize. They knew how to play—you would never hear any technical errors or mistakes, especially in competitions where an opportunity to study abroad was at stake. Plenty of people were good, few were great. But Jin? 

Jin was _remarkable_.

If Yoongi's playing was like bringing notes to life, Jin's playing was like the first creation of the garden of Eden, each note falling in line to its own unique and perfect place in the overall flow of the piece. It was a performance imbued with the blessing of the angels. Jin's hands moved elegantly along the keyboard, the music evoking a mixture of divine passion and serenity.

It was obvious to see that Jin's _Liebestraum_ was different from Yoongi's, not only in the level of technical skill. When played by Yoongi, the song was bright and joyful, speaking of eternal hope. Jin's rendition, however, was tinged with sorrow. Every measure, no matter how joyous the melody of the original composer's envisioning, was touched with a melancholy that not a single chord could escape. When Jin's fingers extended to hit the arpeggios, they were no longer accessories to the main piece. Though quick and light, they were not simply glossed over. He stretched each note out to their full value and made them shine, giving them an emotional weight that wasn't quite matched by Yoongi's loving hands.

"Okay, now pay attention here." Without breaking concentration for even a second, Jin recalled the measure Yoongi was having difficulty with, prompting him to lean in.

With a quick flourish of his hands, Jin lifted up into the air and then down with a harmonic thud, emphasizing the end of the measure that Yoongi did not catch while playing the piece himself. He breezed through the rest of _Liebestraum_ with the same vivacity, ending with a smile and turning to Yoongi. 

"And that's how it should be done!"

Yoongi went silent as he stared hard at Jin, deep in thought.

"Aren't you going to say something? Anything?" Jin asked, puzzled.

"Jin Jin Jin Jin Jin... why is that name so familiar?" Yoongi muttered under his breath.

"...Uh. Are you okay?" Jin was slightly more confused now, hearing his name repeated over and over again like some sort of demonic chant. He leaned away from Yoongi in bewilderment.

Suddenly, Yoongi covered his mouth with his hand, standing up from the piano bench abruptly and causing it to shake. He shouted, "YOU'RE _THE_ KIM SEOKJIN??!?"

\----------------------------

Yoongi was wringing his hands anxiously as he sat backstage, his feet tapping the tune of the song he had practiced in anticipation for this very day. He had just recently turned 13, the age where he could finally compete with fellow teenagers and truly test his skills on the competitive stage. His confidence in his ability didn't make him any less nervous, though.

Leaning forward in his white plastic chair, Yoongi stared forward at the wall in front of him, decked with three television sets to capture the stage view outside. As he tried to take his mind off of his sweaty palms, he heard the click of dress shoes whir past him, a tall black-haired boy moving forward with ease.

"Kim Seokjin, to the stage in five!" A nameless voice called out.

The boy nodded, his footsteps disappearing behind the curtain, waiting for the performer ahead of him to finish. Holding his sheet music in the crook of his arm, he looked forward with purpose, his eyes burning with a certainty that couldn't possibly have been known.

Yoongi looked down at his feet again, the irrelevant moment passing within the span of 10 seconds. That is, until the television sets flickered to the stage, and he heard the piano _sing_.

The moment was emblazoned in Yoongi's mind for the rest of his days. While the old TVs couldn't quite capture the performer's face at the distance the cameras were set up, he could feel the passion emitting from the speakers drilled in their sides. The walls vibrated with music, the harmonies spilling forth from the stage and flooding every corner of the concert hall. Yoongi's hands stopped shaking, his feet stopped tapping. All he could do was stare at the screens, speechless.

When the performance ended and the boy named Kim Seokjin took his bow, Yoongi unconsciously found himself standing up with the rest of the crowd, his body physically reflecting his internal thoughts of deep admiration. The thunderous applause: a standing ovation. Jin slipped backstage then opened the door outside, stepping out and disappearing into the streets of Seoul. He exited Yoongi's life just as soon as he had entered it.

But now he was back, and Yoongi couldn't help but think that this was nothing short of fate.

\----------------------------

Jin stared back, incredulous and eyes shining. "How did you..."

Yoongi smiled widely, barely containing his excitement from this new discovery. "When I heard you play, everything clicked. I remember you from my first ever public performance. It was a concert hall somewhere in Seoul, I think? But you left just as soon as you finished, so I didn't catch a glimpse of your face or even talk to you. I asked some of the other competitors about you—you were famous in the circuits. Just about everyone knew your name."

Reminiscing some more, a thought hit him like a lightning bolt and his face fell.

"I also remember thinking that I would see you next time I played... but I never saw you again." He paused in reflection. "Why is that?"

Jin rubbed the back of his neck. "You know... just busy. With school, and all of that. Life just happens, am I right?" He tried to laugh the awkwardness away, much to no avail.

"Yes." Yoongi said, pretending to be pleased with the short response, maybe because he didn't want to dive too deeply into someone else's personal affairs, _especially_ not someone he had just met. "Anyways, thank you for showing me how to play that part."

Another revelation struck.

"Hey..." Yoongi leaned closer to Jin. "What if you coach me until competition day?"

"No..." Jin looked down in the floor in deliberation before responding suspiciously quickly, "No, I couldn't!"

"Why not? I mean, I'm not forcing you or anything, but with your help, I know I'll rank high in the competition."

"It's difficult to answer that..." Jin said, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"You clearly love playing! The amount of care and attention you put into every note..."

"Thank you," he smiled softly. "But it's just not for me."

"Playing piano?"

Jin answered with some hesitance. "...Yes."

Yoongi gave a playful push. "Don't lie to me. People say you dominated the stage whenever you played. You have talent that shouldn't be wasted."

"It's not that I don't think I'm talented. Obviously, I just _schooled_ you," Jin tried to end the conversation lightly. Yoongi kept staring.

"Like I said," Jin sighed. "It's... difficult."

"Please?" Yoongi got on his knees. "You don't have to do much, just watch me play and call me out when it doesn't sound right."

"I still don't know about it. You know, I'm busy..."

Yoongi groaned. "This competition means everything to me. If it means anything to _you,_ I'd at least like to talk with you some more, and this is the perfect way to do that without sacrificing precious practice time."

"Spending more time with you _does_ sounds nice. I'd absolutely love that! But... piano practice?" His eyebrows raised.

Yoongi locked eyes with Jin, unwavering. His expression was getting more pitiful by the second. Jin's cheeks grew hotter under the pressure, sitting awkwardly on the piano bench while watching Yoongi desperately plead next to him.

"FINE!" Jin shouted, cracking. He threw his hands up in the air in mock frustration, his face relaxing now that the decision had been made.

"YES!" Yoongi leaped up, pumping his fists.

Jin laughed before interrupting. "Okay, let's meet here every other day from now on until your competition day—when is that, exactly?"

"December 25th."

"Wow, Christmas day? Okay then. Got it! Guess I'll see your face at practice later!" Jin nodded a bit too exuberantly, his expression showing the part of him that was excited to hear piano music again.

When the night had come to an end, Yoongi walked Jin to his car. After watching Jin safely drive away, Yoongi stepped into his own vehicle and sat in the driver's seat for some time, waiting in silence while the engine spurred to life. Face-down in his palms, he couldn't stop an idiotic grin from spreading on his face, the chilly autumn air making his flush more evident.

Whether by a stroke of psychic ability or just pure hope, Yoongi could tell that things were only going to get more exciting from here.


	3. Liebestraum no. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi and Jin practice for the competition in December, when a necessary break leads them to spend a day touring their college museum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Yoongi starts playing his final performance of Liebestraum no. 1 in this chapter, I highly advise you listen to the actual piece while reading that section.

Two days later, Yoongi entered practice room 304 just as he always did. Instead of finding Jin sitting on the floor against the wall, Jin was sitting expectantly in a plastic chair sidled right next to the piano bench.

"Ah!" Jin said, giving one big clap. "You're here! Let's get started, then."

Yoongi dropped his black backpack near the entrance door and pulled out the sheet music for Liszt's Liebestraums, each titled accordingly no. 1, no. 2, and no. 3. He walked over to the piano and arranged them neatly on the music desk, the outstretched platform where printed music is held upright for the performer to see. Yoongi had practiced and learned all three compositions for past competitions, but it had been a while since he had last played them all. Well, except for composition no. 3 which was his favorite piece out of the three, incidentally. The two spent a brief minute discussing which work they should focus on before agreeing that they should go in numerical order, starting from Liebestraum no. 1, to practice the pieces that Yoongi was not yet comfortable playing.

Jin gestured for his newly-ordained pupil to play the first piece, leaning back in his chair and observing passively. Yoongi rested his hands against the keyboard and began, letting the twinkling notes fill the room. It was a soft melody, recalling the quick but smooth movements of hands plucking a harp. When he was finished, he leaned back, turning to Jin and awaiting further instruction.

"Not bad," Jin said, bluntly.

"Not bad?" Yoongi replied.

"It's good, but not competition ready." He leaned against the piano, resting his head on his hands. "Do you know what this piece is about?"

"Uh..." Yoongi shrugged. "I just know how to play it."

"It always helps to play with the original intention of the composer in mind! This piece is about religious love, a love for Heaven and its divine creations." Jin gestured vaguely, attempting to convey the depth and breadth of the Earth and its beings, albeit somewhat crudely. "Liszt wanted to convey his intense religious devotion and divine passion when writing this composition."

Yoongi nodded sagely before shaking his head. "I'm not religious."

"Can you at least try to play with the idea of Heaven? Think about the angels and clouds and stuff—pearly white gates and all of that. Just try it, and we'll go from there!" Jin said, prompting Yoongi to lean forward and play the piece again.

More or less, Yoongi played the same, trying to add a little variation here and there that was ultimately meaningless. There was no doubt that it was good, but it still lacked the passion and reverie that Jin wanted to feel through the notes.

When it was over, Yoongi asked, "How was that?"

"It's not... _exactly_ what I was envisioning." Jin leaned back in his chair again.

"It's kind of hard to play a piece with Heaven in your head when Heaven doesn't do it for you." Yoongi stared blankly at the music sheets in front of him, hoping that by some miracle he could understand what the composer was trying to say to him. He could practically _feel_ the ghost of Liszt shaking his shoulders erratically and begging for him to understand.

"Hmm...." Jin pressed his index finger firmly against his temple, trying his best to retrieve some expert advice from the deep crevices of his brain.

"Ah!" He shouted, smiling brightly. "I want you to think of the love of religion as the love of art. Religion can be a source of inspiration—something so awe-inspiring that it spurs creation!" Jin paused to look at Yoongi. "D-do you have some idea of what I'm trying to say?"

"Yeah... I think I get it a little more now."

"Just a _little_ more?" Jin winced.

"...Unfortunately." Yoongi sighed.

"Okay then. Tell me why you love music!"

Yoongi, taken aback, replied, "Right now?"

"Yeah!" Jin folded his arms, getting comfortable in his seat. "Get on your soapbox and tell me what music means to you!"

Yoongi's eyebrows raised. "...Why?"

"Just do it!" Jin insisted. "I swear it has relevancy, so go ahead!"

Yoongi sat with his mouth agape, giving much thought to the prompt Jin posed. He swiveled on the piano bench to face Jin, crossing one leg over the other, and closed his eyes. He let himself sink into the breeze coming through the open windows of the practice room, the faint scent of baking bread wafting in from the cooking class just down the hall.

After much silence, Yoongi began to speak.

"I know this a little personal, but I guess my connection with music is personal, so I'll just go ahead and say it." 

Jin nodded for him to continue. 

"I didn't have much, growing up. My parents worked very hard—it wasn't their fault what happened to us—but we had lost almost everything several times over, our landlord threatening to evict us whenever we didn't pay our rent on time." His eyebrows furrowed and his fists clenched. "I-I try not to remember those days."

"All I had was my childhood piano, a brown antique instrument that we had found lying on the sidewalk of a random alleyway, abandoned. It wasn't in good condition—more than a few of the keys were a little sticky—but I didn't care; I mean, it was free, for God's sake, and it just looked so sad sitting there on the sidewalk, so we loaded it into our truck and took it home. I had found it at a time when I felt like everything was out of my control, but music, I could change and manipulate. I could change how fast I was playing, the loudness of the notes, the smoothness of the melody. It was my solace."

The wind started picking up. "As our situation started to get better, but not good enough, I could always rely on the piano. It was the one thing that never left me, no matter how difficult things became. I practiced incessantly, entered several competitions to test my skill, and developed the discipline necessary to put myself through college and pursue my dream. Not to brag or anything, but I really think music saved me." He reached out to the keyboard in front of him, stroking the keys affectionately. "I owe everything to my love of music, to my love of piano."

Yoongi looked up from the keys to see a pitiful expression on Jin's face, now sitting upright and leaning in, clearly invested in the story that was told.

"I'm so sorry..." Jin said, quietly.

"It's fine. I'm okay now—we're okay now." Yoongi smiled. "Besides, you asked. I wanted to answer as honestly as I could."

Jin gazed fondly at Yoongi for a while before speaking. 

"The reason why I asked is because I want you to think about your love of music when you play this piece. You may not love religion specifically, but you at least appreciate the ability of music and piano to spur you to create. This piece conveys those strong passionate feelings of love that one person can only have towards their inspiration, what drives them to live on. That was what religion was to Liszt, and that is what music is to you."

Yoongi nodded, Jin's words stirring inside of his head.

Jin gestured towards the piano again, and Yoongi took that as a cue to put his hands in position on the white keys. Yoongi closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then let it all out.

The melody started out slow, Yoongi's hands moving about the piano with grace and calmness—until the dynamic shifted. Yoongi pressed his hands voraciously against the keys, the notes elevating suddenly in volume and in spirit. He channeled his love of music into the notes itself, his fervor for playing clearly felt in this short but succinct climax. The repeated, accentuated arpeggios spoke of the constancy with which music came into his life: always there, a comforting presence.

Jin found his head swaying with the melody, his feet swinging to the rhythm.

When Yoongi was finished, he sat there with his hands against the keyboard, not wanting to let go.

"I think you've got the gist now," Jin said, pleased with this level of progress on only day one of practicing. "Let's focus on some minor errors now."  
  
  


\----------------------------------  
  
  


For the rest of the day, and for the rest of about two weeks, they worked to fix the small inconsistencies in Yoongi's playing and to perfect his performance. Jin lounged about the room, chiming in every now and then if Yoongi had trouble with a section not coming across quite right. For the most part, Yoongi was left to his own devices, knowing best which parts he should practice and which parts he should not practice. The two of them talked about whatever they wanted whenever they wanted and took breaks often to eat snacks on the benches outside campus or to help each other out when assignments got too much to handle.

It was a calming atmosphere they had created in room 304, a place free from concern and worry. They could get away from it all, immersing themselves in the music and in each other's company. Even outside of the university, they texted and called each other constantly, bringing the idea of room 304 with them whenever they talked.

Nearing the end of the second week of their after-class rendezvous's, Yoongi had played Liebestraum no. 1 to perfection, at least, with no technical errors, but he still felt dissatisfied with his performance. Folding his arms and leaning against the piano keys, Yoongi complained, "I don't know what to do anymore..." His lips curled into a pout that Jin found all too cute.

Jin settled in the chair next to Yoongi, watching him amusedly as he continued to complain about the plateau in his progress. Yoongi was about to go off on another tirade when Jin stopped him. 

"How about next practice we go to a museum? You know, to take a break from this."

Yoongi's eyes softened. "That sounds nice."

And with that, the plan was arranged. They would meet in front of the university dorms at around 6 pm and head towards the on-site museum that was hidden away in the very far corner of the college, frequented only by the most adamant art majors and fanatics. For this reason, it was mainly empty, providing a quiet place where they could just relax and take in the masterpieces around them.

"Thanks for meeting me here," Jin said, as Yoongi walked out of the dorms to greet him. He was dressed up a little more than usual, wearing a long brown overcoat with a red silk scarf, but dressed comfortably enough for the autumn season.

"Don't mention it," Yoongi replied. He wore nothing particularly special, just a grey flannel underneath a black puffy jacket and a grey beanie, covering tufts of bleached hair.

"Shall we, then?" Jin said, excitedly.

They walked across campus mostly in silence, taking in the afternoon's light weather and the gorgeous scenery of falling autumn leaves fluttering to the ground around them. Their walk was speckled with casual conversation, nothing too out of the ordinary for a pair of friends.

When they arrived at the building, Jin paid for both of their tickets, against Yoongi's insistence. 

"You've worked hard enough. Just let me do this for you!" Jin said, wearing the brightest smile Yoongi had ever seen. One look at Jin's expression and Yoongi just couldn't say no, resigning himself to sliding a 10 dollar bill in his coat pocket later.

The entrance to the museum led to a large, blindingly white room, industrial iron spikes serving the purpose of holding up the ceiling as well as adding a decorative modern flair. Placed against the walls were a strange collection of artworks and sculptures, adding the only flashes of color to the otherwise blank room. From brightly-colored drip paintings to enlarged shiny structures that resembled balloon animals, the modern art room was contemplative and fun. Standing next to one of the big balloons, Jin pulled a variety of funny faces, peeking out and jumping up from behind them, hoping to elicit some reaction from Yoongi. 

_So cheesy,_ Yoongi thought, unconsciously stifling a chuckle. Satisfied, Jin laughed and half-walked, half-stumbled back towards his companion, walking together round the rest of the exhibit.

Moving to the next room, they found themselves in a space filled entirely with mirrors, some flat, some protruding and jutting out in an odd fashion off the wall, others broken in several places. The ceiling and floor were entirely blackened, save for the ingrained dots of white lightbulbs that illuminated the installation.

"Whoa!" Jin said, his curious hands running along the cracks in the mirrors.

"Be careful not to hurt yourself," Yoongi said somewhat quickly as he stepped into the enclosed space.

"Mmhmm, I'm careful!" Jin replied absentmindedly, his focus on the reflective surfaces surrounding them. "Isn't this so cool!" He struck several poses, checking himself out from all angles in the different types of mirrors.

"Yeah..."

Now it was Yoongi's turn to be absentminded. Despite the compelling irregularity of the space they were in, Yoongi's attention wasn't on the impressive artwork, but rather, solely on Jin's reflection. Sure, the way some mirrors curved and refracted the white lights in the ceiling made for some amusing fun house imagery, but even Yoongi knew that that wasn't why he was so entranced. 

The way Jin's black hair shined underneath the glare of the lights, the way his red scarf framed his beautiful face, the way his lips puckered as he stared in awe at the artistry of the work in front of them.

Staring too long inevitably led them to lock eyes in their reflections.

Covering his tracks, Yoongi asked, playfully, "Would you _please_ stop staring at yourself?"

Jin tutted. "How could I, when I'm just so handsome?" Jin leaned in, pretending to kiss his reflection. 

Noticing that Yoongi was standing a little ways off, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, Jin laughed. "Get in here!" He pulled Yoongi close, slinging one arm around his shoulder, while pulling his phone out to take a picture of them standing side by side. On any other day, Yoongi would have tried his best to avoid taking any pictures of himself and have them floating around somewhere where he couldn't see, but he was much too absorbed in the fact that he could hear Jin's heart beating so fast, and all he could wonder was... could Jin hear his own heart beating too? 

He stood there silently as Jin snapped a couple of photos, unable to look anywhere else except at the black tiles beneath them.

"Hey, could you at least smile in one of these pictures?" Jin said, breaking the short silence.

"Oh. Yeah, sorry," Yoongi snapped out of it, forcing a smile onto his face.

Jin tutted again. "I guess this'll have to do. Your fake smile just isn't the same as the real one, is it?"

"What do you mean! This _is_ my real smile!" Yoongi pushed Jin lightly.

"Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that," Jin whispered as they made their way to the next installation.

The click of their shoes against the marble tiles could be heard throughout the building. It appeared as though all the other visitors had already left, leaving only the work-study students staffed at the reception desk, too busy staring at their phones to even notice or care that Yoongi and Jin were still bumbling about the place.

They tiptoed through the silent area, all the while Jin giggling as he beckoned Yoongi to follow him, motioning for him to be quiet while doing so.

"I heard there's a hidden installation here that is set to open in the winter. Some art majors told me it's already done." Jin whispered as they arrived in front of a large set of white doors, a skewed sign hanging on it haphazardly, reading "NEW INSTALLATION COMING SOON". Jin ripped the sign off and hung it on the wall next to the entrance, opening the door ever so slightly so as to not make a squeak.

"After you, sir" Jin mockingly bowed, watching as Yoongi entered the room, then following after.

Closing the door behind him, Jin whirled around to see a spectacular sight. Hanging low from the ceiling of the installation were rounded, brightly colored shards of glass, so close that you could reach out, touch them, and interact with them. Swinging mechanical lights stationed high on the wall directed passing beams of light through the glass and onto the white walls that surrounded them, creating a dazzling display of ricocheting color and light. The room was small and intimate, about the size of a large photo booth. This meant that Yoongi and Jin had to stand close together, but just comfortably enough to where they weren't brushing up directly against each other.

Watching the blues, pinks, reds, and yellows bounce around the room, Yoongi couldn't help but show how impressed he was with the display. It felt so magical the way the colors intermingled on the white surfaces, reds and yellows converging to make orange, blues and reds combining to make lilac. He stood in awe at the magnificence of it all, the grin on his face stretching with every passing second.

Jin felt a pang in his chest when he saw Yoongi smile like that. The flashes of colors passing over Yoongi's bright smile, seemingly incarnating the beauty from within him into a physical form. 

Were Yoongi's eyes always that lovely shade of brown, or was that just a trick of the light?

Perhaps it was the illusion of the red shards swinging and twisting on their strings at just the right moment to overlap with Jin's speechless face, but his face was entirely flushed crimson. Jin's lips, slightly ajar, formed a pleasantly surprised smile.

When he found himself being perhaps a bit _too_ delighted from simply looking at Yoongi, Jin shook his head. He couldn't allow himself to think like that, not after what happened last time. He sunk a little into his red scarf, embarrassed from thinking such things.

_Oh, well. One picture shouldn't hurt, right?_

Pulling out his phone, Jin snapped a quick photo of Yoongi smiling, enveloped in the colors and the reflecting lights around him. _I'll be sure to show this to him later._ Jin thought, as he set the image as his phone homescreen.

Exiting the room and putting the sign back in its rightful place, Jin led Yoongi to their final destination.

"I saved this part of the museum for last. I hope this helps!" Jin smiled as he walked backwards into the exhibit, his arms outstretched.

One look at the wall covered in the paintings of the old masters clued Yoongi in to the knowledge that they had entered the traditional art section of the museum. Why that was so important, he had no idea. As he took a step closer to the paintings, he realized that they were all connected to themes of religion, halos and gold adorning images of angels and biblical stories. Jin walked slightly ahead as they turned about the room, not a word exchanged between the two.

At the far end of the room, Yoongi's eyes fell upon the northernmost wall, completely covered by a massive canvas. On its enormous linen surface was an eclectic scene of angels battling devils, soft whites and yellows clashing with heavy reds and browns, golden shafts meeting blackened, bloodied pitchforks. Yoongi stood there, eyes examining every single detail he could pick out. It was so incredible how this concept of religion, of Heaven, could spark such inspiration in someone, driving them to churn out those complicated feelings onto a canvas. 

It was like... 

It was like...

"I get it," Yoongi said, relieved, the tension that built up over the two weeks disappearing from his shoulders.

"You get it?" Jin asked, a little confused.

"Yeah. I understand," he said, firmly, still gazing at the sprawling painting before him. He turned to Jin, putting both hands on his shoulders. 

"I'm going to go back," he said, quickly, his legs leading him out of the room.

"Just where are you going, Min Yoongi??" Jin shouted as he tried to catch up.

Exiting the building, Yoongi was running full sprint towards the practice room, his fingers itching to get another taste of the piano. His heart beat with excitement, blood pulsating in his ears, breaths escaping every time his foot touched the ground. _This is what it means to have passion._ He thought. _To love something so much you just can't help but do something with it, to yearn for it, to spend your_ _entire_ _life chasing it._

The drumming in his chest didn't cease even though his breath slowed by the time he sat back down at the piano bench, his fingers clamoring to lift the piano case and play the song they were made to play. As the notes rose from the body of the instrument, Yoongi could feel his lungs rise and fall along with the melody, everything in his being screaming that _this_ was what Liszt meant, that _this_ was what Yoongi wanted. His fingers plucked the keys as they would the strings of a harp: fast and sharp. His limbs did their best to convey all of those years spent falling in love with music and their ability to bring to life those feelings that were never said, that maybe were never meant to be said by anything other than a mixture of eighth notes, chords, and key changes. This was what love was, what it is, and what it will forever be.

I gladly do without earthly joy

And, a martyr, I gaze ahead,

For over me in the golden distance

_Heaven has opened._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lieder at the end is the poem that inspired Liebestraum/Liebestraume no. 1. Hohe Liebe (Exalted Love) by Ludwig Uhland.


	4. Interlude 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finishing Liebestraum no. 1 to perfection, Jin invites Yoongi out for some coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was honestly so much longer than I ever expected, so it took me a while to make sure it was good! I hope you enjoy :)  
> Follow me on twitter @kingofselflove1 !  
> Or follow my wattpad @pinkwishoflemonade to receive notifications for when I update!

Jin leaned against the entryway, staring affectionately at Yoongi as he poured his heart and soul into every note. The moon's shine peeked through the cracks in the window, providing the only lighting in the room and casting Yoongi in an ethereal glow. Jin walked over to the panting Yoongi, sweat glistening on his forehead from running so fast to the building. Yoongi turned to Jin as he approached.

"Thank you," Yoongi uttered, still slightly out of breath.

"Don't thank me. It was all you! I just pushed you a _little_ bit in the right direction," he replied, proceeding to physically push Yoongi lightly on the shoulders.

" _Thank you_ ," he repeated, his voice barely in a low whisper as he examined his own hands, wondering how the hell he was able to pull this off.

"Anyways..." Jin patted Yoongi on the back. "If we're done here, wanna go grab some coffee with me?"

Standing up shakily from the piano bench, Yoongi gripped Jin tightly on the arm and they headed towards the local coffee shop.

The _A La Mode Café_ was a cozy little space located just outside of the campus boundaries where many students chose to study or chat amongst friends. This night was no different, crowded and bustling as students worked to crank out their term papers and assignments, the sound of keyboard clacking could be heard intermittently between your typical late-night conversations. The interior was just an average, run-of-the-mill coffee shop, with fairy lights hanging artfully from the ceiling and menus written out in rough white chalk on blackboards. Finding a seat inside away from the cold weather, Jin told Yoongi to wait on the leather couches as he went up to the counter to order for the both of them, one jasmine tea and one iced americano respectively. Yoongi took the opportunity to slide a 20 dollar bill in the overcoat that Jin left hanging on the seat beside him, as Jin refused to let Yoongi pay for anything all night, much to his dismay.

When he returned, hand with the iced americano outstretched to Yoongi, he plopped down on the seat next to him, taking a long sip from his warm tea.

"That sure hits the spot!" he said, one hand curled around the tea cup and another placed on the arm rest next to Yoongi.

Yoongi took a small sip from his iced drink, looking down at the hand that was a bit too close for comfort. Staring at Jin's long fingers, perfect for playing piano, a thought popped into his head.

"I think you owe it to me to tell me the story of how _you_ fell in love with music," Yoongi said, blinking innocently. Jin sputtered, tea dripping down the sides of his chin, which he wiped quickly with a napkin while trying to maintain his composure.

"I... haven't told you yet?"

"Go ahead," Yoongi said, Jin's unexpected reaction stoking his curiosity.

Jin placed his tea cup lightly on the rustic wooden coffee table in front of them, shifting anxiously in his seat. "I'm not like you, Yoongi. In terms of... musical endeavors." Yoongi squinted his eyes at Jin in confusion.

"I'm just trying to say that it's not a particularly inspiring sort of story!" Jin continued, "It's boring... You don't want to hear it."

"But I do," Yoongi replied, getting even more intrigued. Jin blinked back, not expecting Yoongi to be so blunt. 

"Okay... If you insist..." Jin cleared his throat. 

"It's not the _most_ interesting thing in the world, but I was a child prodigy," Jin said, the slightest hint of hatred seeping out of his mouth as he uttered the words. "It's not that I didn't enjoy piano, at least at first, but it wasn't my choice to even begin with. When my parents saw my potential, it was like everything became about piano."

His eye twitched. "I practiced every day, constantly, to the point where I would give up meals just so I could stay up late to perfect my latest piece. Everyone had these expectations of who I was supposed to be. I felt I had an obligation to fulfill that. It was like a continual itching—I was always dissatisfied with myself."

"Pretty soon I was just going through the motions. Winning competitions no longer brought me any joy. It was simply meeting my duty—nothing more, nothing less. So I..." The words were stuck in his throat. "So I... quit. I think the day you say you saw me play was the last time I actually played competitively."

Jin looked up from the table, meeting eyes with Yoongi. His gaze was hard and uncertain, a small scowl evident on his face. His steely expression softened when he saw a look of concern cross Yoongi's eyes.

"But you asked me how I fell in _love_ with music, right? Not how I fell out of it?" Jin laughed, sinking into the leather couch and putting his hands on his head, frustration evidently racking his brain. "To be honest, I wish I could tell you. I don't think I even know the answer myself." He sighed, uncovering his eyes and looking up to the ceiling, hands falling limp to his side. 

"But I'm overreacting... aren't I? You asked a simple question, and for some reason, there doesn't seem to be a simple answer. Am I oversharing? Rambling on like this. I had a gift and I threw it away. I should be grateful, right? I know people wish they could've been like me—and don't take that as me being arrogant." Jin choked up. "I feel so... so stupid, talking about this. I'm so sorry. You didn't have to hear this."

Jin took a sharp inhale, a breath that sounded so painful. His eyes became glassy as he stared up, unblinkingly. Yoongi shyly put his hand over Jin's, caressing his thumb over the slender fingers. He may not have known what to say, but he was damned if he didn't do something, however small.

"In all of this, I do know one thing, though," Jin rolled his head to the side to look at Yoongi again. "When I heard you play that September day, I felt like everything was..." He looked down quickly in thought, then straight into Yoongi's eyes. 

"It felt like everything was okay. For the first time in my life, I wanted to make music again, and to hear music again." He placed a careful, somewhat hesitant hand, on Yoongi's thigh. "I'm glad I met you." His eyes flickered, the blinking fairy lights casting their reflection onto his irises.

Yoongi nodded slowly, embarrassed at Jin's sudden confession, instead taking the opportunity to take a few more sips of his coffee. Noting the silence, Jin drank his tea, finishing the remainder of what was left in his cup.

"I guess we both have pretty complicated feelings about music, huh?" Yoongi blurted out.

"I guess so..." Jin replied, his voice fading into the background of the busy cafe.

Jin downed the last of his tea and stood up to put the cup away, stopping to grab Yoongi's cup when he was finished.

They exited the establishment, standing in silence as they let the wind brush past them, gazing up at the stars twinkling in the night sky.

Jin interrupted the minute tension.

"I don't really want to go home today." His words echoed their shared sentiment, both not wanting their precious night together to end, _especially_ not with their semi-awkward recent conversation.

"You don't live on campus?" Yoongi turned to Jin, surprised.

"No..." Jin answered. "I live alone in a place on the outskirts of the city that my parents rented for me but... it's far too late for the bus to come around so I'd have to take an Uber or something to get back home." Jin kicked a pebble with his foot.

"That sucks," Yoongi said, his breath materializing in the cold air. He put his hands in his coat pockets, unsure of what to say.

As a group of giggling girls came out of the cafe, walking hand in hand to some unknown destination, a stroke of brilliance shot through Yoongi's mind.

"Would you be okay with staying at my place for the night?"

Jin's face lit up, his radiant smile stirring Yoongi's heart.

"Yes!" He shouted, a bit too excitedly. Calming himself down, he continued "ahem—that is, if you would have me, of course."

"Alright. Cool," Yoongi said nonchalantly, secretly ecstatic at the prospect of Jin crashing in his dorm room.

Thankfully, the dorms weren't a very far walk from the café. Opening the door to room 113 on floor 3, Yoongi stepped to the side and let Jin enter first.

The room was neat enough, somewhat sparse—no wonder Yoongi didn't rush to clean up before Jin decided to stay over. The bed was nicely made and shoved in the far corner of the room, simple white sheets and blankets covering the mattress. In front of it was a small flatscreen TV, dust collecting on its top. A piano keyboard was placed next to this TV area, still plugged in to an outlet, ready to be played at any moment should the desire strike. Recording and processing equipment lay over its top, wires sprawling in a heap over the white keys. Turning to the left, there was a small stove, oven, and sink. A little coffeemaker lay dormant on the counter, a half-filled bag of coffee beans leaning against it. The thing that caught Jin's eye, however, was the only unexpectedly messy area: the white desk that lay next to the TV. On its surface were dozens of college textbooks, pencils, pens, and papers strewn about haphazardly as though Yoongi were rushing to complete all of his assignments, which, from Jin's personal experience, wasn't the case. The desktop computer sat in the center of the whole thing, sticky notes in all the colors of the rainbow almost completely covering its rim. A paper wastebasket was placed underneath the desk, overflowing with balled up paper sheets.

As Jin went closer to examine the mess, he noticed that the papers covering the surface of the desk weren't assignments, but rather, musical compositions. In scribbly handwriting were dynamics and notes, clefs written messily on the left side of the measures. Yoongi's loopy handwriting formed the top of each sheet of music, titling each work affectionately and adding a personal touch to the strings of notes that lay beneath. Jin began to imagine Yoongi sitting at this desk, a stroke of inspiration hitting him as he cranked out these pieces, his tongue buried in his cheek as he wrote the scores frenetically. At this thought, Jin smiled warmly.

"Oh..." Yoongi said, collecting the sheets of music in one neat sweep and sliding them into a green plastic folder. "I forgot those were there."

"You write music?" Jin asked, wearing a teasing grin.

"...Yes." Yoongi replied, cautiously.

"Oh, you've _got_ to play one of your songs for me one of these days! I didn't know I was in the presence of a genius!" Jin said, eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Shut up," Yoongi said, hitting Jin lightly on the arm, a small smile forming on his face. "Anyways, here." Yoongi threw an oversized hoodie and a pair of pajama pants at Jin.

"If these don't suit your taste or don't fit right, just tell me. I'll grab something else for you," Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck, too embarrassed to meet Jin's eyes. "The bathroom's just over there." He pointed at a door next to the bed.

Giving a quick nod, Jin rushed into the bathroom, clothes in hand. Flicking the switch to turn the lights on and locking the door behind him, Jin glanced at his reflection in the mirror before turning his attention to the articles of clothing Yoongi had so graciously handed to him. Sliding off his coat and clothes and sliding into the dark green hoodie and grey, loose-fitting pants, he was hit with the strong scent of cologne. Grabbing the hood from behind his neck and bringing it to his nose, he realized just how much it smelt like Yoongi, a mixture of teakwood and lavender. He stood there for a while, absolutely giddy at the fact that an article of clothing could resemble a person so well.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Jin saw Yoongi sitting on the corner of his bed, hands folded neatly in his lap as he waited patiently for Jin to change. As soon as Yoongi caught a glimpse of Jin in his positively _stunning_ new outfit, he tried to stifle a laugh. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he moved his hand in front of his mouth to mask his growing grin.

"What's so funny?" Jin pouted, his hands set firmly on his hips.

"Your... your legs!" Yoongi pointed at Jin's white ankles, exposed by the pajama pants which seemed a tad too short on the very tall Jin.

"Oh, shut up! It's not _my_ fault I was born like this!" Jin tutted. "If anything, you should be laughing at the fact that you're _short._ "

Yoongi's mouth closed as he put on a face of mock anger.

He glared at the towering Jin, eyes glinting. The somewhat awkwardly dressed Jin responded by leaping and jumping onto the bed, subsequently knocking Yoongi onto the floor with a bounce, rolling on the rough carpet in hysterics.

Standing back up, Yoongi found Jin already making himself quite comfortable under the covers, grabbing the TV remote and switching on the TV.

"Do you want anything to eat?" Yoongi asked.

"No thank you! I'm okay." Jin had already found the Netflix app and was scrolling down the page when his eyes fell on the cult classic the _Princess Bride_.

"Oh my god! I haven't watched this movie in ages!" Jin shouted, his knees jerking towards his body, pulling the blanket closer.

"I haven't seen that yet."

" _Shut. Up._ You _haven't_ seen the Princess Bride?" Jin's mouth was wide open. His shocked expression then changed into one of firm resolution when he continued: "I know exactly what we're doing tonight. If you could go make us some popcorn, I'm turning this on and we _are_ watching this."

Per Jin's instructions, Yoongi threw a bag of popcorn into the microwave, watching as the little table rotated slowly inside until it inflated fully, ready to be eaten. Yoongi was about to grab a bowl to pour it in when Jin excitedly motioned for Yoongi to join him on the bed.

"Come on! We can just eat from the bag. Hurry!!"

Not one to leave a good movie waiting, Yoongi carefully grabbed two napkins and placed them on the bed, then the bag on top. Peeling the flaps of the popcorn bag carefully, the delicious scent of buttery goodness wafted through the room.

" _Damn_. That's good," Jin said as he reached in and grabbed a handful of the snack, shoving them in his mouth and filling his bread cheeks.

For the remainder of the almost two hours, they watched the movie, laughing together, crying together. With the lights turned off, there was nothing but them and the world of _Princess Bride_. Making snide comments here and there, swooning over the dashing Wesley and loving the determined Inigo Montoya, and screaming at Buttercup for her utter stupidity, between handfuls of popcorn and raucous laughter, they simply took the night to enjoy themselves and each other's company.

As it was getting deep into the late hours of the night, not a single peep could be heard from any of the neighboring dorm rooms. Jin had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, leaning comfortably against the pillow next to Yoongi. His puckered lips were slightly ajar, soft breaths escaping from them with every rise and fall of his chest. In the flashing blue lights emitted from the TV, flickering across his pale skin, he looked ethereal, even when he was asleep. A stray lock of hair fell onto his face as he drifted off, and Yoongi gently pushed it back behind his ear, careful not to wake the sleeping beauty, his hand being met with the coolness of Jin's soft skin.

In his sleep, Jin's precious face fell off of the pillow, unconsciously moving closer towards Yoongi. His mouth opened wider as a heavy snore escaped from the gap between his lips. Yoongi couldn't help but smirk a little as he tried to restrain his laughter from the unexpected noise, pulling the blanket over Jin more snugly as he did so. When he woke up, he was _definitely_ going to tell Jin what happened.

While letting himself be enveloped in the moment, Yoongi's eyes opened wide in shock.

 _Oh my god. He's asleep. On. My. Bed._ The thought came suddenly. _What the HELL do I do?_

He can't possibly sleep on the same bed as him. No. That would be immoral! What if Jin doesn't feel comfortable sleeping next to someone, or for that matter, what if he doesn't feel comfortable sleeping next to Yoongi specifically? No, but then why would he allow himself to drift off like that? Wouldn't he have to be comfortable enough with their friendship to trust him so deeply? No. It doesn't matter what Jin does unconsciously, since Yoongi would be the one who would ultimately have to take responsibility if something ever occurred. There's no way of knowing how Jin would feel unless he woke him up, but looking at his peaceful face, there's no way in hell that would ever happen. There's only one option left, then: to avoid conflict, Yoongi would sleep on the floor.

Sighing as he made this resignation, Yoongi carefully plucked one blanket from off of the bed and dragged a pillow under his arm. When he was about to lift himself off of the springy mattress, he felt a sensation brush against his back. Startled, he turned around to see Jin, arm outstretched while deep in sleep, whisper "Don't leave me alone".

_Hell... screw it. There's nothing wrong with sleeping next to my buddy. My pal. My homeslice._

Yoongi made these justifications to himself as he slid back under the covers, pulling his blanket closer to him as he lay flat on his stomach, his arms sprawling beneath his pillow. However, this peace was interrupted when the unconscious Jin, whose arm was still outstretched, found his hand meet Yoongi's and grab onto it tight, unceasingly. His slender fingers curling around Yoongi's made the poor boy go into yet another shock.

Hearing only Jin's shallow breaths and feeling only Jin's tender skin, Yoongi was unable to go to sleep anymore. The TV had long since been turned off, leaving Yoongi in almost complete silence as he stared up at the white ceiling, contemplating how he even got himself into this mess in the first place.

Oh...right. That serendipitous September day.

Yoongi was grateful that he was able to meet someone like Jin, so wonderful, so talented, so comfortable. He wondered why someone like him, who could've been doing a million other things by now, decided to stick around, much less take Yoongi under his wing when he didn't have to. Becoming friends was pure coincidence, one might even call it fate how they left each other's lives and entered back into them when the time was right. Regardless of how they came together, Yoongi knew that Jin had no obligation to him. So... just why...?

Yoongi shook his head. It didn't matter why. What _mattered_ was that they had found each other. That Jin was his only friend. And that meant everything to him.

Maybe one day he would have the courage to tell Jin how special he made him feel, that he was so glad they met each other when they did, that he loved talking with him and laughing with him and simply _being_ around him. But that would come later.

For now, he would get some sleep.


	5. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Per the title, this is the morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very VERY short chapter for you guys. Just a little something to show you I'm still working on stuff! The next chapter is definitely going to be lengthy, so be prepared!

In a blink, the morning had come. Shutting his eyes tight, Yoongi was curled up in a ball underneath the weighted blankets, nestling himself deeper within the sheets to retain some level of warmth amidst the mid-autumn chill. The light smell of oil from the kitchen seemed to stir his senses, but it was much too early to get up just yet.

Well... Jin thought otherwise.

Taking a pause in his cooking, Jin pulled the curtains back, letting the light filter in through the gleaming windows and onto Yoongi's sleeping face. The latter groaned in frustration, flipping to the other side to get some more rest.

Realizing his efforts were in vain, Jin poked Yoongi's squishy cheeks while softly whispering, "Wake up. Breakfast's almost ready."

Yoongi let out a small hmm? before coming to the realization that he had company, shooting up suddenly from the bed.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" He shouted, albeit in a strained, raspy morning voice.

"What are you sorry about?" Jin laughed. " _I'm_ the one intruding in _your_ home."

The fog clearing from his head a bit more, Yoongi saw Jin return to his spot in the kitchen, already changed into his own clothes from yesterday evening. The borrowed pajamas were left folded neatly on the chair stationed at the desk. Yoongi smiled at Jin's consideration before entering his bathroom and freshening himself up.

By the time Yoongi had finished, Jin had made two fluffy omelettes, one on each plate, with buttered toast on the side. When Jin went to hand Yoongi the plate, he tutted.

"You know it was a struggle making breakfast for you this morning."

Yoongi, nibbling on some toast, responded, "Why?"

"You have practically nothing in your fridge!" Jin walked over to the refrigerator, opening it wide for Yoongi to see. Within its icy chambers were _maybe_ 4 water bottles, a bottle of soy sauce and fish sauce, a carton of eggs, and a random box of pre-made mac and cheese, unopened.

"I had to purchase basically all of the ingredients to make these TWO omelettes and TWO pieces of toast."

"I just don't have the time anymore to cook my own meals," Yoongi said indifferently, digging into the fluffy eggs and stuffing them into his mouth.

"So do you just _starve_??"

"I mean... I wouldn't say _starve_ , per se."

Jin blinked back, mouth agape.

"You can't be serious," Jin shook his head, taking his plate and sitting on the chair at the desk. "Maybe I'll have to come over and make sure you're eating properly, because— _clearly_ —I can't trust you with yourself."

"I wouldn't mind that all too much as long as I get to eat this well everyday."

"You like it?" Jin said, a goofy grin spreading on his face before stopping himself prematurely. "Ahem... of course it's good." Jin smiled to himself softly, pleased that someone enjoyed his cooking. When Yoongi's comment finally registered, his head jerked to the side.

"Wait... are you serious?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Yoongi continued eating fervently.

"Ok then..." Jin said, contentedly, his ears turning the slightest hint of red. "Don't be surprised if I show up randomly to your dorm one day and force you to eat something for once."

The two spent a pleasant morning chatting about nothing over their simple, yet filling, breakfast. The sun getting higher in the sky, the birds flying through the clear air—everything was seemingly perfect. After they had finished what was left of their meals, Yoongi grabbed the white plates and utensils and brought them over to the kitchen sink, meanwhile Jin was busy packing up what stuff he had in his bag and slinging it over his shoulders.

"Well, I gotta head back to my place now to finish up what homework I got over the weekend. Thank you for letting me stay over, Yoongi."

"No problem," Yoongi replied, politely opening the front door for Jin. "Take care."

"Will do," Jin said, with a funny little salute. "You take care too, and _EAT._ _PROPERLY_."

"I'll try," he laughed in response.

"Good." Jin ruffled the blonde tufts of Yoongi's hair and headed off into the morning day.

When the door had fully shut and locked into place, Yoongi leaned his forehead against it with a sigh, his palm laying flat against its cool wooden surface. He retreated further inside his humble abode, stopping in his tracks when he caught glimpse of the neatly folded pile of pajamas lying on his desk chair, a somewhat painful reminder of the person who was just inside his home. Walking over to the desk, he scooped up the clothes in his arms, holding them for just a second too long, before hurriedly putting them in his closet so he wouldn't have to see them again, at least for the remainder of that day.

With that done, he sat in the now empty space and set to work.


	6. Rain

It was an overcast afternoon. Students, bundled up in their winter coats and hats, were streaming out of the classrooms and back to any warm place they could find. But not Yoongi and Jin.

Sitting at the piano bench, Yoongi was now practicing the second piece in his set, but the pang of each white key produced only half-hearted notes. Jin, on the other hand, was quietly sitting in the corner of the room at a small desk, reading over his course textbook and finishing any assignments that he would have otherwise waited to do at home.

Days like this weren't common. Usually, the practice room would be filled with sounds of the two chatting avidly or of laughing too hard from a joke the other had made in between the songs Yoongi was practicing. 

Today was quiet, perhaps _too_ quiet.

Yoongi leaned against the keyboard and let his gaze drift out of the windows. A flock of magpies were soaring across the sky, breaking up the grey outside and dotting it with the flap of black wings. It was a mindless thing to do. He didn't exactly want to think too much, anyway, not with the rate of how his practice was going.

Without looking up from his homework, Jin said, almost out of obligation, "Why'd you stop?"

Yoongi gave a shrug, but no verbal reply.

"You know I can't see you, right?"

"Yep."

"Ok, then, if that's how you want to be." Jin grumbled before dutifully returning to his work.

Heaving a sigh, Yoongi turned his attention again to the sheets of music. The notes came to him like soldiers marching in a line: monotonous, rigid, and precise. No matter how many times he played through it and no matter how many times he attempted to change his performance, it couldn't elicit any emotion from him. The song was present in one moment and then gone in the next. It was nothing special—no one would pay any attention to it. Yoongi was only getting more and more discouraged as time went on. The lines were blurring, the dynamics were disappearing. What more could he possibly do?

As he played through the end of the piece for what might have been the hundredth time, he felt his cheeks growing hot and his hands growing cold. The frustration that had been slowly eating him up over the course of the day had finally come to a head. He slammed the piano case with a thud and stood up abruptly from his seat.

" _Whoa_ ," Jin said, still deeply focused on his studies, breaking concentration only for that brief moment.

Yoongi wanted so desperately to shout, but restrained himself, instead releasing one breath of hot air while clenching his fists tight in a ball. In an attempt to release that pent up anger, he walked over to the classroom window, placing his hands on the windowsill and hunching over, letting his forehead brush up against the frosted pane of glass. He then looked over at Jin who seemed unbothered by the whole situation. He was just calmly flipping through his textbook, making the occasional motion to scribble in his binder of loose-leaf paper. Smoothly sipping a mango smoothie he had bought from across the street, it appeared as if he didn't have a worry in the world except for that present assignment.

That very notion of tranquility made Yoongi even more fed up. _Unreasonably_ so.

He stomped back to the grand piano and flung the case open with an unnecessary, and completely unexpected, amount of force, causing the sheets of music to fly through the air. Yoongi didn't even bother to pick them up.

Now, he had captured Jin's attention, the latter setting his book aside and gracefully stooping down to recover the music sheets, crinkled by the sudden outburst. Pulling a chair over to the piano, he placed the sheets of Liebestraum no. 2 back on the music desk where they belonged.

"Hey..." Jin said, concern laced in his voice. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Yoongi replied, bluntly.

"Did something happen?" Jin asked, trying to dig deeper into what was causing this change in behavior.

"No."

"No?" Jin asked, strained.

"No," Yoongi repeated.

"Work with me here, Yoongi," Jin sighed.

"Nothing happened."

"Okay, if nothing's happened, is there something I can do to help you?"

"No."

"Okay, I probably should have expected that response."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jin noticed Yoongi staring intensely at the sheet music while cracking his knuckles and wringing his hands nervously. It was obvious that his anger had something to do with his incapability to perform, though Jin couldn't tell why it made him so upset.

"Here," Jin said, motioning for Yoongi to get up off the piano bench. "Let me play it for you and we can see if it helps in any way."

Without any resistance, Yoongi got up from his seat and loomed over the piano, arms folded as he stayed quiet, ready to listen.

The song started off slowly, the occasional arpeggios sprinkled like light fairy dust floating peacefully in the air. Then, the thrumming of the notes rose in intensity, coming more and more frequently like the moon pulling the waves towards the shore, before coming to a sudden stop. Jin's eyes closed as he focused solely on the song and the message that was being conveyed, his hands compelling him to lean forward as they picked up speed once again, the sound of the piano rushing outwards from the mix of metal and ivory.

It was more ethereal than Yoongi could have ever imagined a song could be. Everything seemed to fall into place, the notes aligning to speak one story of love's eternal passion. To Yoongi, however, it only spoke of what he couldn't bring himself to do. It didn't whisper sweet nothings into his ears. It only whispered resentment for what he could not achieve—and as doubt began to creep in—what he may _never_ be able to achieve. As the song reached its climax, a soaring cacophony of music spilling from the lid of the grand piano, Yoongi shifted positions uncomfortably, his arms getting tighter and tighter around his body. 

Something so beautiful could only remind him of failure. Something so magical could only serve to _piss him off._

As Jin struck the final chord, he turned to Yoongi with a smile on his face, hoping that maybe his short performance could enlighten his struggling friend. Met with a scowling expression, his face fell when Yoongi began to speak.

His cheeks red and his jaw clenched, Yoongi's foot was tapping erratically on the linoleum floor. 

"That wasn't _that_ good," he lied, a heat filling the empty void in his chest.

Jin simply looked at him for a moment while processing the words that had come out of his dear friend's mouth, his previously calm expression changing to one of contempt. "Oh yeah? That's saying something. I'm only trying to help!"

" _Sure_ you were. You only wanted to show off! Well, too bad. It didn't work!" Yoongi was backing away.

"What? Yoongi, what are you even saying? I'm your friend! Of course, I would want to help you!"

"Yeah? If you were trying to help, then why were you in the back minding your own business as though you couldn't tell that I was clearly frustrated! You ignored me!" Yoongi pointed at the corner of the room, as though he was somehow showing what was only obvious.

"Yoongi, I can't read your mind," Jin lowered his tone, an expression of guilt playing on his countenance, upset that he didn't notice his friend was in dire straits until the very last second. "If you need something, _say_ something."

Jin attempted to reach out to Yoongi, but Yoongi was far too lost in his own mind. HIs breath was getting faster, his movements were getting more jagged. He looked everywhere except for into Jin's eyes. "I-it's like you don't even care about anyone except yourself, you know that?" He sputtered without even really thinking.

Jin shut up. He stared directly into Yoongi's eyes, unwavering, commanding his attention. His eyes spoke not of hatred, but of disappointment.

"I suggest you go outside and take a walk. Maybe the cold air will clear your sorry mind," he finally spoke.

He stood firm. Yoongi, whose lips had parted as words were about to roll off his tongue, was shot down quickly by his hard stare. Reluctantly, Yoongi grabbed his black windbreaker, tossed it around his shoulders, and exited the room silently.

\----------------------------------------

The sky was getting darker as grey clouds moved in to block the horizon. The birds Yoongi had seen flying so freely in the air before were now nowhere to be found. He was left all alone with the rustling of the leaves falling all around him. Storming away from the building, he found a seat on a bench and sat down.

So many thoughts clouded his mind all at once, but the one thought that was as clear as a silver bell was this:

_Why am I not good enough?_

He leaned back against the seat, running his hands along the indents in the old wood. There was no real reason for this line of thinking. He had known that he worked hard; he had known that his whole life was built upon music; he had known that this was all he could have ever wanted. He was just so close to his dream that it felt so far away—and that made him feel oh so helpless.

All he could do was sit in the quiet, stare long and hard at the sky, and wait. But the feelings wouldn't subside. No... they would only be replaced with thoughts of him.

How could he have been so stupid? Did he _really_ let jealousy overtake him, overrun with frustration to the point where he had to lie just to save face? Jin was only trying to help—it was true what he had said, and Yoongi knew he wasn't at fault in the slightest. Guilt started to seep in, realizing how irrational and idiotic his behavior was. He slapped himself on the cheek, as if trying to wake himself up from whatever sick prank this life was pulling on him. 

But he couldn't help the thought from resurfacing. When you see someone with everything you could have ever wanted right in front of your eyes, neglecting to use what they had and _content_ with not using it, something changes inside of you. Anger was, unfortunately, the only way he could rationalize that kind of fear and emptiness in that moment, for anyone with _ears_ could tell that Jin was talented, was special, was perfect, was...  
  
  


 _better than him_...  
  
  


Yoongi shook his head, as if trying to deny that simple truth, trying to deny the existence of his inadequacy.

Something pulled him out from the maze that was his thoughts—a sensation falling on his head. Then another. And another and another and another and another and another and...

It began to rain. 

The dark clouds moving swiftly in the atmosphere above had warned of this weather change, yet Yoongi didn't bother to bring his umbrella outside when he had so furiously exited the room. Did he regret leaving it back there? Not really. There was much more to think about than some measly rain. He stayed still on the bench, his only movements being to put his hood on, resulting in anything not covered by his jacket to get completely soaked.

He sat there, contemplative, for the duration of ten minutes. Staring down as the raindrops hit the ashen pavement, bringing with them a cold, wet world, Yoongi felt something stir within him. A sinking feeling in his chest told him that if he didn't act soon, he might just lose the only friend he had, just as quickly as a rain storm stops, just as the seasons inevitably change.

He rose slowly from his seat, and marched off towards the warmth of the classroom he had once left.

————————————-

When Yoongi returned, he found Jin sitting at the desk, biting his nails and staring out of the windows, the frost cleared away due to the impact of the rain outside. His notebooks and school supplies were already packed neatly in his backpack, and his mango smoothie cup was completely empty, laying haphazardly on its side. Yoongi had half expected to return to an empty classroom, and the sight of a worried Jin made him weak in the knees. 

Jin turned around at the sound of Yoongi's footsteps, leaping up from his seat and rushing towards him. Reaching out to touch him, his fingers grazed the smooth windbreaker, immediately being met with the cold sensation of wetness.

"Y-you're completely drenched!" Jin said, exasperated.

"I'm sorry," Yoongi said, looking down as he spoke. "I don't expect you to forgive me... and I don't want to make excuses for myself-" Yoongi began to bow before Jin caught him by the shoulders.

"Let's get you out of that jacket first, and then we can talk."

Jin unzipped Yoongi's jacket, throwing it on an empty desk. Taking off his own tan cardigan, he slipped it around Yoongi's shoulders and guided him towards a seat.

"What did you want to say then?" Jin prompted.

"I'm sorry... for everything." Yoongi looked straight into Jin's eyes with such sincerity that Jin himself was taken aback. This was the same person who had left earlier, enraged by who knows what. Jin couldn't believe the sudden change, but he put on a serious face as Yoongi continued. "I'm sorry for saying that your playing wasn't good. That was a lie. You're amazing—but, anyways, I'm sorry for pushing my bad mood onto you when you were only trying to help. I'm sorry for my extremely rude behavior, and for not thanking you earlier for helping me out. I'm sorry that you have to deal with someone like me when you could be doing literally anything else. I'm sorry that I-"

"Firstly," Jin interrupted, "I accept your apology. However, I think it's unfair of you to say that I have to _deal with you like_ it's a bad thing. I hang out with you because I want to, not because I have to, you know." He gently put his hand on Yoongi's shoulder. "I'll admit that I was hurt by your words, but that's why I'm grateful that you took the time to apologize."

At this, Yoongi nodded, unable to lift his head up very high. Instead, he was playing with his thumbs, trying to restrain the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes.

Seeing Yoongi in such a dejected state, Jin let out "Gah... Just what will I do with you?" before pulling Yoongi into his arms, rubbing his back in circles and resting his chin gently against his head. Yoongi stayed silent.

"I know it's difficult," Jin said, feeling Yoongi's shallow breaths on his neck, creating a tingling sensation that only made his pulse quicken. "I know why you reacted the way you did."

"But I should never have reacted that way, especially not to you..." Yoongi replied, his voice muffled by Jin's chest.

"While that may true... I mean! You were only frustrated! I can imagine how hard it is to...to..." Jin stopped his movements, struggling to come up with the right words to say. "Ugh... what I'm trying to say is that loving something so much can do that to you. It's a process, trying to grapple with the idea that you aren't good enough—don't think I'm trying to tell you that I don't think you're good enough, because _you absolutely are,_ I just want to tell you that I understand, and that—"

Yoongi chuckled.

"Hey!" Jin laughed back. "Don't make fun of me for trying to cheer you up! I'm just trying to say something poignant for you."

"I know..." Yoongi lifted his head up, meeting Jin's gaze. His eyes were soft and glittering from the reflection of the fluorescent lights installed in the ceiling, a little puffy from holding back his tears for so long.

"Just why are you so nice to me?" He asked, his voice low and strained as if searching desperately for the answer posed by the question.

This question elicited what only could be described as a visceral reaction in Jin, his heart beating so fast you could have sworn that he had been shot if not for the clear absence of wounds.

He responded, in a soft tone, "Because I am, and I want to be. Isn't that enough for you?"

Yoongi nodded.

_"It is."_


	7. Please Take Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi falls sick and Jin meets an alarming character again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW//Very minor, but I'll put this warning just in case: victim-blaming, gaslighting, derogatory words

"Hey, uh... Don't bother coming to practice today," Yoongi's voice carried over the smartphone speaker.

"Wait, what?What happened, Yoongi?" Jin replied.Yoongi had interrupted his late lunch as he was about to head to the next class, but Jin didn't mind so long as it was Yoongi doing the interrupting.

"Oh, it's nothing big," Yoongi coughed, his voice barely rising above a croak."I'm just a little sick."

"Was it because you sat in the rain for so long? I knew I should've went outside to call you in," his rapid mutterings audible over the phone. He looked up at the grey clouds above, evidence of the harsh rain that swept through the area the day prior.

"No, it's not your fault, so don't blame yourself. I won't be coming to practice though." He coughed. "Don't worry about me.Go to class."

Jin couldn't help but feel worried, his foot tapping anxiously against the concrete. "I will.But right after, I'm going to march over to your dorm!You better be getting proper rest!!"

Yoongi's soft laugh travelled from the phone, tickling Jin's ears."I am.Seriously, don't worry—I'll be fine."

"Alright..." Jin said, a little perturbed that Yoongi didn't tell him sooner, but overall, relieved by Yoongi's affirmations."I'll get going then.Take care of yourself!"Jin hung up the phone and shoved it into his backpack, making his way to the lecture hall.

The walk through the quad towards the tall, steel building was nothing but peaceful. The sun had risen high as the dark clouds parted, its harsh rays beating down on the groups of students standing idly by while they waited for the next class to start. Faculty from all over campus were running about the place, carrying stacks of materials or suitcases in hand, pushing their way past the awkward stares of their students. 

Jin was soon approaching the building, and as he pushed in the silver handle, he peeked through the sleek glass door, met with a very very unwelcoming sight.His heart sank in his chest as he tried to steel his nerves, his hand unconsciously gripping the edge of his brown sweater and turning his knuckles a pale shade of yellow. He pushed his golden-framed glasses upwards, trying to maintain his composure.

With his head held high, he strutted as calmly as he possibly could in such a situation towards the auditorium when he heard a whisper saying "manwhore".

In an instant, he changed his tune, spinning around to face the perpetrator.Looking right at the tall figure who had the smuggest expression on his face, Jin shouted, "What the hell did you just say to me?"

A small girl with peach colored hair was holding tight to the tanned arm of he who-shall-not-be-named, staring at two completely bewildered.She tugged on his hand, but he only pulled himself away and towards Jin.

"I saw you, you know," Jin's ex said with a smirk.

" _Excuse_ me?" Jin stepped backwards.

"I saw you leaving the dorms early in the morning when I was going to Professor Jung's class.You looked a little _disheveled_ , if you know what I mean."

Jin gawked at him, still confused.The man rolled his eyes, then continued."You live off campus, so _clearly_ , you had to be banging someone at the dorms, if you stayed up that late." His stance was confident and composed for someone making such bold allegations, his arm ripped free from his companion's grip and now gesturing broadly at Jin. "Tch.You're so easy, you know that?"His eyes squinted, his words spat with such seething anger.

... _Easy_?

"You're the one who cheated, dumbass," Jin replied, turning around and stalking off in the other direction.

"H-hey! Don't—" the girl squeaked.

Then, Jin felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, the sensation of nails digging under his skin. He slowly swiveled his neck around to see his ex's face front and center, his furious eyes burning into his soul.

"You think you're all that, huh? You think you're Mr. Perfect or something just because you have a pretty face and your daddy paying for your leisurely life?! I'll tell you—I'll tell you _exactly_ what you are!"

Jin didn't move a muscle.

"You're nothing but a dumb slut who's never had to work a day in his goddamn life! Your stupid face doesn't match how _weak_ you really are, so stop pretending to be something you're not."His voice got louder, rising to a shout. 

Jin stayed silent.

"You act all high and mighty, but you're useless without me. You hear that? _Useless_. You ever think about why you have so many stupid relationships and so many stupid breakups?Yeah?No one will ever love you.No. One. Not even your rich daddy, or your new _fuckbuddy_ , and no one ever will, so—"

"That's enough!" The girl screamed, pulling his arm with all of his might. "Leave him alone!"

Hearing her voice, the ex clicked his tongue one final time and exited the building, the girl practically screaming at him the whole while. Jin was left all alone to stand in the blank whiteness of the cold lobby.Not being able to process what had just occurred, he walked into the lecture hall and took a seat.

—————————————-

It was nearing time to leave. The rest of the students were drained from the intense lecture, slouching and groaning in frustration as their wrists ached from writing.The lecture had gone over by 10 minutes, and everyone was getting anxious to leave, except for Jin, who was mindlessly staring at the whiteboard and the professor while scribbling aimlessly in his notebook.

For him, time passed by so quickly. His thoughts were clouded with white static. It was an empty feeling he had gained. He felt no connection to the world around him, no semblance of any grounding. In fact, time had passed by so quickly that he didn't even notice the professor tell the students that class was dismissed, that he didn't even notice the hundreds of students packing their bags and walking out of the lecture hall doors. His attention was drawn solely to his notebook page.

He looked down.

In a black sprawl of lines, on the page was written only one word, over and over and over again until its darkness invaded every corner and every white space. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't veer his eyes away. Even though it spelled out one meaning, it left him totally and utterly lost. He stared at the edges of every letter, every flick of the pen, eyes dashing across the page in an attempt to puzzle out these complicated feelings rising inside of him.

 _Easy_ , it spelled out. 

Nothing was more simple than "easy", and yet that one word provoked Jin so much, in ways he couldn't even begin to verbalize. 

So he didn't. 

He simply shut the book with a thud and threw it in his backpack carelessly, not before ripping out the page he was just staring at and crumpling it into a misshapen paper ball, tossing it in the trashcan near the exit.

Leaving the classroom without further incident, he found himself at Yoongi's doorstep. About two months had passed since they first met, so Yoongi got used to Jin coming around every so often to hang out and cook meals together. As Jin gently knocked on the door, Yoongi opened it quickly and sat back down at a chair sidled next to his keyboard.

Yoongi surely was a sight to behold. His bleached blond hair looked like a comb hadn't been run through it in days. His light blue button-up pajamas were wrinkled in odd places. His eyes were bloodshot, the huge bags under his eyes making it apparent that he was unable to sleep a wink. The music sheets for Liebestraum no. 2 were already propped up on the music desk. With this fact, Jin realized that Yoongi had not, in fact, been resting, but instead was using his day off to practice.

"Are you kidding? You tell me you can't make it to practice and then you go right back home and practice?! You should be resting!" Jin scolded Yoongi as he threw his backpack down in the entryway and took off his sneakers.

"At home, I can stop and get snacks and drink water and stuff. Plus, I didn't feel like I would make it if I had to walk all the way across campus to get to practice room 304."

Jin sighed. He was in no position to argue today, much less over something so insignificant. At least Yoongi was at home. 

"Never mind that. Did you eat anything today?" Jin walked towards that small kitchen as he waited for Yoongi's response.

"..."

"Yoongi, did you eat today?" He repeated, while opening a cupboard.

"...No."

"You! Gah... Okay, I'm going to make you some soup then. And after you eat it, you are going to take a shower and then go straight to bed. You look absolutely awful," He added, teasingly.

"Hey..." Yoongi pouted. "Why are you being so mean to a sick person?"

"Because the sick person in question doesn't know how to make himself NOT sick." Jin said, as he turned on the stove and started boiling water, pouring in the chicken stock and prepped vegetables.Jin had been over many times before, so much so that he knew his way around the kitchen.Yoongi's previously poor grocery habits were transformed after taking many trips to the grocery stores together, his cabinets now filled with all of the necessary tools and materials to prep his own meals.

As Jin cooked, Yoongi once again returned to the keyboard, the sweet notes of Liebestraum no. 2 mixing with the sound of knives against cutting boards and the sizzling of the stove fire.Jin swayed in time to the tune as he stirred the soup with his ladle, permitting Yoongi to play before he would eventually force him to go to sleep. When he was finished cooking, he poured the soup into a bowl and handed it to Yoongi.

"Thank you," Yoongi said, taking the hot bowl and placing it on his desk. "Aren't you going to eat?"

"I ate before I came here," Jin lied with a pleasing smile.

Satisfied with that short response, Yoongi ate the soup voraciously, finishing the bowl within a matter of minutes.

"Do you want seconds?" Jin asked, concerned at the rate at which Yoongi scarfed down the meal.

"No, I'm good now. Thank you for the meal, though," he said, then brought his bowl to the sink.He was about to wash it when Jin stopped him, placing a gentle hand on the bowl.

"I got it.Go and take your shower."

"But you cooked the meal. The least I can do is at least clean up after myself."

"If you want to go clean up after yourself, then go clean yourself in the shower!Come on.You're sick!"Jin said this last line with such insistence that Yoongi relented, stalking to the bathroom with a somewhat guilty conscience.

As he waited for Yoongi to finish up, Jin sat at the white desk, leaning back in the office chair.It was just as messy as always, what with all of the pink, yellow, and green post it notes scattered around, especially so on the computer monitor.Most of them were the names of assignments that had to be completed in the week, or ones that Yoongi probably didn't even bother to throw out given that some were due weeks ago, per the note.But those ones weren't important.

A yellow post-it-note stood out amidst the sea of similarly brightly-colored ones, its borders lined with pieces of scotch tape so that its place on the desk was made permanent—at least until it was eventually torn off, as all things inevitably are.In red ink, it wrote "Thank Jin" followed by doodles of eighth notes and clefs.Jin got the feeling that, for whatever reason, he wasn't supposed to be looking at it too closely, and went to get his backpack.He pulled the chair to the window overlooking the campus garden, looking out at the pink sky before him as his textbook lay flat on his lap, his mind completely empty from the day's events.

He didn't even notice that Yoongi had finished his shower until he heard Yoongi yelp in pain, grabbing onto his knee which he bumped against the metal bed frame and massaging it lightly with his right hand. He then crawled into bed and started to wrap the white covers over himself, his hair dripping wet onto the pillow.

"Are you crazy?" Jin shouted with concern as he leaped up from the plastic chair.

"What?" Yoongi replied softly, sounding as if he were about to pass out.

"Don't you know you should never go to sleep with wet hair? Do you want to get even more sick?"

"It's fine. It'll dry eventually. I'm too tired to do it myself anyway."

"Come here, ya idiot," Jin said, pulling the chair over to the nearest outlet and grabbing a blow dryer from the bathroom. He patted the edge of the chair, beckoning for Yoongi to sit.

Yoongi groaned in response, burying himself deeper underneath the weight of his blankets.

"I said. Come. Here." Jin stomped over to Yoongi, determination blazing in his eyes as he ripped the blankets off of the bed and onto the floor. Tugging Yoongi's oversized t-shirt, he led him onto the chair, sitting him down forcefully.With the simple click of a button, the blow dryer whirred to life, the hot air drowning out all other noise from the adjacent dorms.

Then, Yoongi felt Jin's long fingers combing through his hair, his tender touch heating him up more than the blow dryer or his fever ever could. The space they were in grew smaller as he did this, no words being exchanged between the two as Jin set to work, his hands running over every inch of Yoongi's scalp. Jin focused solely on the person in front of him who was sitting so patiently, if not languidly, in his seat, wanting to concern himself only with present matters. Yoongi closed his eyes, allowing himself to fall deep into the intimate atmosphere. He was alone with Jin's warm, soothing hands, and he wanted nothing else but to let himself go in that gentle touch. All else was silent except for the hum of the blowdryer held steady over his head.

"Alright," Jin said, quietly, flicking the off switch on the device when Yoongi's hair was perfectly dry. "Now, go to bed."

By this time, the sun had fully set. The sky was an endless black, the only light being that of the moon that glowed dimly in the distance. Jin grabbed his textbook and settled back down in the chair by the window, although he didn't really make much motion to start reading it anytime soon. Yoongi slinked under the comforters, placing his arms comfortably beneath his pillow as he shut his eyes.

It was about 9:00 pm when Jin began to get restless. He drummed silently on his thighs with his fingers, pressing into his corduroy slacks with light thuds until his fingers cramped. His head turned towards the bed, of which Yoongi was curled underneath the pillowy white sheets, not tossing or turning, just sleeping so peacefully. Jin calmed down a little, his gaze becoming soft. Careful not to make any loud noises, Jin got up out of his seat, crawled his way through the carpet, and sat down crosslegged next to the bedside, his face barely a feet's distance from Yoongi's.

Yoongi's cheeks were pressed against his pillow, the pressure causing his mouth to open ever so slightly in his sleep.Deep, relaxed breaths escaped from his parted lips.Jin took notice of his long eyelashes, how they were reminiscent of a butterfly's delicate, fragile limbs.He looked so vulnerable, very different from the tough, determined Yoongi he knew in real life, outside of the land of dreams that Yoongi was slipping into right at this moment. The sight of his friend like this put his heart at ease.

Taking careful consideration, Jin brushed Yoongi's bangs out of his face, placing his palm against his forehead.His fever had gone down, his forehead registering at a completely calm, warm temperature that didn't warrant any more concern or worry on Jin's part. With this confirmation, Jin heaved a sigh, stroking Yoongi's golden locks affectionately.

Inching gradually towards the sleeping figure, Jin planted a sweet, gentle kiss on Yoongi's forehead.He withdrew from the bedside, not quite realizing the significance of what he had done, then retreated towards his seat by the window once more. He packed his book into his backpack and folded his arms as he slumped in his chair, his long legs outstretched over the carpet.He closed his eyes as he hummed the tune of Liebestraum no. 2 quietly, soon drifting off to sleep himself.

When the soft lullaby ended, then came a soft kick of the blanket. 

By this time, Jin already fell unconscious, his exhaustion from the day finally settling in and blocking out all other senses.Yoongi, on the other hand, was now wide awake.

Yoongi had never been very good at sleeping for long periods of time, prone to sleeping late at night and getting up early, his desire to constantly be productive prodding in the back of his mind at every waking hour.This cocktail of insecurity coupled with a certain person forcing him to take a nap for what seems to be the first time since elementary school made Yoongi very very awake.

He pulled his blankets closer to his chest, wrapping the white sheets around himself protectively.He reached a slow hand towards his forehead, his fingers delicately grazing the area with a certain caution, as though insistent on not erasing the physical memory of what had just occurred.Yoongi shut his eyes as tight as he could, his mind forcing him to relive that gentle caress of Jin’s lips against his skin. 

Yoongi’s forehead seemed to radiate with the heat of that moment, and his own lips unknowingly curled into a smile.


	8. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin suffers through a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW//: Again, very minor, but I just want you, my readers, to be safe! Minor violence and relived trauma.

Jin opened his eyes.

He was standing in the entryway of his own apartment, a couple of miles away from campus. It wasn't very spacey, but it was a significant improvement of his living situation had he resigned himself instead to one of the dorms on campus.

It was neat enough. Three healthily green potted plants were starting to wilt in the corner of the living room, settled next to large, glass-paneled windows overlooking the city streets below. He picked up the tin watering can glimmering under the sun's glare and sprinkled water onto the plants, the soil turning a darker brown. A dusty keyboard lay vertically against the wall, untouched by anything other than the passage of time and shoved behind a wooden bookcase that held various paraphernalia and gifts from family, as well as souvenirs he had obtained from spontaneous trips to distant places. A picture frame was located on the middle shelf, depicting a happy family from a happier time. A young couple stood behind two small children, wearing big smiles on their faces as they held them within their warm arms. A white sofa sat behind a flatscreen TV and a small brown coffee table. A specter sat on its surface, patting the area next to him and motioning for Jin to join him on the couch.

Jin could recognize that smug tanned face anywhere.

Jin obliged and took a seat. The specter leaned in slowly, inching ever closer with his lips puckered and ready for the kill. Just as his lips were about to touch Jin's cheek, he disappeared into the air like mist on a foggy night.

Jin was not alarmed. Instead, he turned his head towards the TV, which was now flickering with static and the bright colors of cyan, magenta, and yellow. The apparition reappeared in front of him, blocking the television screen with the breadth of his toned body. He waved his arms in front of Jin's face, his mouth curling into an 'O' shape despite no sound coming out. Jin stared out blankly at the television behind him, his hand now clutching a small, black TV remote. In one smooth motion, the specter smacked the hand that held the remote, the small device soaring through the air and crashing onto the hardwood floor below, the collision causing the back panel to break in half and the batteries to clatter and roll out in two different directions. Jin's eyes followed the device as it bounced across the floor, then darted back towards the TV, which was restored to an empty black. The specter disappeared once again from his sight.

The apparition was now in the kitchen nook, standing in front of a wooden cutting board and crushing garlic cloves with the broad side of a very sharp knife. Pausing this activity to talk aimlessly in Jin's direction, who still was unable to hear him, he wagged the knife around carelessly.

"Please stop. You're going to hurt yourself!" Jin cried out, though he couldn't even hear the sound of his own voice as he felt the sensation of blood rushing to his head.

The specter didn't take this as a warning. Instead, he proceeded to rapidly jab at the air in front of him, as though cruelly killing off an imaginary figure in the air with such vivacity and strength of motion. He plunged and twisted the knife deep within the supposed dead body, and took it out with a grin that spoke of immense satisfaction. He dangled the knife haphazardly off of his fingers, bringing the knife close to his own face in some sort of sick power play. Jin's face contorted to one of pure fear and desperation, putting his hands in front of his mouth in shock. The specter enjoyed this look very much, and brought down the knife onto the marble countertop with a clang. He placed one hand against his chest and the other on the counter as he leaned back with a laughter that was still incapable of being heard by Jin. With one final guffaw, he evaporated.

Jin stood up from the couch, the fear falling from his face, and walked towards his bedroom. This area of the apartment was much more messy. The walls of the room were a shade of baby blue. A queen-sized bed sat in the center of the room, blue sheets and navy comforters covering its surface. The state of the bed had been roughed up by use with no attempt to remake the bed. The blanket was unevenly pulled to the left side, hanging off and falling onto the shaggy lilac carpet. A black desk was placed in the corner of the room next to a metallic black lamp, turned on and overheated. A laptop was plugged in and charged on the top of the desk, various wires coming out of the bottom and sprawling across the carpet. Textbooks were piled on the floor underneath the desk, as well as others were left open on the desk's surface. One paperback book was collapsed against the wall next to the rest of the textbooks. Jin reached under and grabbed it, opening it up to the title page.

Kafka on the Shore, Murakami Haruki, it read.

For my Jin

Love,

#######

The space where the name once was was crossed out in ink, thick, angry red lines obscuring the characters. Wrinkles in the title page demonstrated that this book had undergone a fair amount of crumpling before being picked up in this present moment. Jin tossed it back in its place, and turned around.

He came face to face with the specter. His tanned face was now beet red, veins popping out on his neck and his forehead. He was ranting and raving, pacing along the carpet, arms swinging wildly about the room. Suddenly, he changed directions, closing in on Jin and backing him into the corner. His red face was framed by the light blue that coated the walls like a halo.

Before Jin could even realize what was happening, a meaty hand came down towards him.

One clean, smooth slap across the face.

Jin reached up and touched the burning area, panging and stinging. He shut his eyes as he winced.

When he opened them again, Jin found himself in the empty hallway leading to the lecture hall, the pain transferring from his cheek to his shoulder. This area on his body was throbbing and red hot, leaving him unbelievably dizzy. His legs folded in on themselves as he collapsed to the ground, his strong arm clutching his weak shoulder as if his life depended on it.

There were no specters, no person haunting this memory. He was alone in the cold emptiness of the lobby, the cold tiles beneath him sending a shiver up his spine. He looked up and out of the clear double doors before him.

Outside was a gorgeous sunny sky, the pathway lined with beautiful maple trees, their red leaves falling gracefully to the concrete pavement below. But this beauty was not enough, his own subconscious seemed to believe.

The hallway began to echo.

Easy.

Easy Easy Easy Easy Easy.

Easy Easy Easy Easy Easy Easy Easy Easy Easy Easy Easy.

EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASYEASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY EASY.

Jin shut his eyes. His body folded over, and he opened his mouth to scream into the grey, unfeeling tiles.

Before one syllable of sound could leave his mouth, however, he found himself transported to practice room 304.

The windows were wide open. The breeze blowing through caused the translucent curtains to flutter, like a magpie’s wings beating against the wind. Light entered in scattered specks across the room, filtering through the gaps between the leaves on the red trees outside. Jin sat himself at a desk closest to the windows, facing himself towards the solitary piano that stood front and center. His arms resting against the piano case, Yoongi leaned forward, his chin laying on his fist comfortably. His blond hair was blowing back with the wind as he stared absently at the view beyond the glass panes. He turned to Jin with a pleasant smile, his pearly teeth parting like the red sea as his laugh rang out, clear as a bell.

It was the only sound that Jin could hear.

As the tension released from Jin's shoulders, his eyes fluttered open once more, and he returned back to reality.

The warmth of the yellow practice room disappeared, replaced with the cold blue of the autumn night. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he reached a careful hand up, using his sweater paw to wipe the condensation from his face.

With a slight turn of his head, he looked at Yoongi's sleeping figure, still huddled up in his white comforters, fast asleep. He picked up his backpack and quietly got up out of the chair, exiting the dorm. Once he had heard the click of the door automatically locking, he retreated down the hallway and out of the building.

Upon reaching the edge of campus, he hailed a yellow taxi cab, climbing into the backseat and shutting the door. He was immediately hit with a musty smell which he couldn't describe, probably the result of dozens of other sweaty passengers packing the car before him. He decided not to focus on the rankness of the car's environment, gazing out at the city street views.

The roads were crowded. Company employees were just getting off of work, filling bars in groups with raised glasses of alcohol. Couples out on dates were holding hands, licking from the same ice cream cone. Vanilla, strawberry, pineapple-coconut, mint-chocolate chip. Lights flicked on and off in skyscraper buildings. Red lights, green lights, yellow lights streaked across his vision.

In a blink, he had arrived at his apartment.

He opened the door.

The three potted plants in the corner of the room were brown and wilted from months of neglect. The kitchen nook was cluttered with kitchen utensils: forks, spoons, knives, dishes, bowls piling up in the sink. Empty cup of ramen noodle packages and soda bottles were strewn about the floor, crushed aluminum cans adding to the room's already disastrous ecosystem. The coffee table in front of the TV had several rings from iced coffee cups dripping into the aged wood. A pile of clothes lay in a laundry hamper, shoved behind a curtain as the walk to the washing machine became too cumbersome.

Jin's backpack fell to the floor with a thud in the entryway.

To the pervading silence, he whispered.

_”I'm home.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in general, wow. This chapter was surprisingly easy to write. I published this in the same day! I hope you enjoyed, as always. To all of you who got this far, thank you for your continued support! You don't know how happy it makes me to read your comments and have someone reading my writing. Follow me on twitter @kingofselflove1 and on wattpad @pinkwishoflemonade!


	9. Liebenstraum no. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin has some time to reflect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use ####### to symbolize the name of Jin’s Ex, so please feel free to name him whatever you want! For those wondering, I do have a name in mind, but I’d rather you use to opportunity to project your hatred onto him :)

Jin's apartment was completely void of light. Not bothering to flick on any of the light switches upon arriving at his humble abode, Jin sat in the dark on a stool in front of his kitchen island, swirling a glass of dark red wine that he had no intentions of drinking. The curtains were pulled to the side, revealing a crescent moon hanging in the deep blue of the glass panels.

With a clink, he placed the glass on the marble countertop, laying his weary head on top of his folded arms.

What a dream, or, rather, what a nightmare. It would be good if he never experienced that kind of thing ever again.

Jin continued to swirl the crimson liquor.

Jin reflected on his past relationships, the majority of which were very short and unmeaningful. His past boyfriends had always been the one to break up with him, instead of vice versa, and they always gave the exact same reason: Jin just wasn't who they thought he was. 

Now, that kind of statement didn't really make any sense to Jin, no matter how many times he tried to rationalize it. He didn't think he was being anything other than himself, but it appeared that that wasn't the case to other people.

In fact, the only truly long-term relationship was with...

#######.

Yes, that's right. The only long-term relationship that he's ever been in. Jin nodded, as in confirmation with a ghostly conversation partner hiding in the elongated shadows of his room.

####### had seen the most of who Jin was and, at least to Jin, it seemed that he had seen the most of who ####### was. They had seen each other's dark sides and embraced them mutually. 

_Isn't that what love is?_

Jin's insecurities became #######'s insecurities. #######'s insecurities became Jin's insecurities. He became the person that Jin could always talk to, the source of his comfort, as well as his strife.

_I guess strife isn't exactly the right word, is it?_

And being with him was such an adventure! He was smart and capable and exciting and fun. He knew exactly what to say and what to do. There was never a boring moment when he was around.

_But that didn't last very long, did it?_

He loved him.

_He hurt you._

He trusted him.

_He betrayed you too many times to even count._

But maybe if Jin was somehow more loyal or affectionate or kind or perfect. Maybe if he could have done better to make ####### love him more than he did. Would he have stayed? Would he have cheated? Would things have changed from the way that they were? If only he had tried harder, right?

_Just why are you not good enough?_

The wine glass came crashing to the kitchen floor, the red liquid splashing up and onto the hem of his corduroy pants. Shattering into millions of broken shards, the glass pieces were scattered across the tiles. He stood up from the kitchen island and proceeded to solemnly sweep all of the shards into a tray, dumping the whole thing into a separate plastic bag and leaving it in the entryway along with the rest of the full trash bags. After that was done, he took a towel and wiped away the wine that he hadn't even had the chance to drink. He discarded the wine-soaked towel in the corner of the sink, intent on washing it tomorrow instead of tonight.

He walked to the living room, sitting himself down next to the dead plants that he used to so lovingly care for, and leaned his forehead against the glass windows. He enveloped himself in the blue, the moon's white glow cutting through the darkness of his living space. As a coolness spread from his face to the rest of his body, Jin was struck with the image of Yoongi leaning against the piano, his gummy grin invading his mind's eye. He pulled his legs against his chest, hugging them tight as he thought about those pretty teeth and those pretty lips. Just how could a smile hold so much warmth?

Yoongi was such a sweet person. He always went along with whatever he wanted, no matter how absurd, with such patience and understanding. And Jin loved listening to him rant about his favorite musicians and compositions, how the arrangement of notes and chords and chosen keys held some special meaning that you could only find if you looked hard enough. It was wonderful how someone could feel so passionately about something, about anything at all. Jin chuckled. In fact, he was a little bit jealous.

Wait a second. The smile dropped from Jin's face as he slapped his head lightly. 

Why was he thinking about Yoongi so much? There's so many other things he could be thinking about. His grades, what he's going to eat for breakfast tomorrow, what he might want to watch on the TV before he goes to bed. But somehow, his thoughts always returned to Yoongi like clockwork. What he was thinking in this present moment? Is he getting enough sleep? Is he eating regular meals? Is he happy?

Jin clasped a reluctant hand against his mouth, as if suppressing words that he would never dare speak.

Maybe he really _is_ "easy".

He stared out of the window in quiet reflection, his lips pulled into a thin line.He exhaled onto the glass, his warm breath steaming up the pane, and dragged his index finger in the shape of a question mark in the condensation. 

There's got to be more than this, right?This feeling that he has?It's only an infatuation.It will pass.He's just nice to him, that's all.That's all. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, disappointed in himself for getting so worked up about one person. Only with time and distance will this feeling peter out. 

_Just give me some time,_ he thought.

\----------------------------------------------------------

A week had passed. Yoongi and Jin were sitting in the practice room, just as usual. Nothing was out of the ordinary. 

Well, except for Jin.

Jin was sitting at a desk in the corner of the room, busily typing away on his laptop, the clack of the keys interspersed with the sound of long, drawn-out sips of his iced tea. He was insanely focused, despite mentioning to Yoongi earlier in the week that he was already finished with his assignments. Instead of the usual rambunctious Jin who would interject with his opinion whenever he saw fit, this Jin was quiet and withdrawn, and he had been like this for the whole of the week. His behavior didn't have to change much for Yoongi to take notice.

There was a pause in between practicing. Yoongi leaned back on the piano bench, his hands planted firmly on the back of the seat to prop him up in place. His eyes were fixed on Jin's countenance, the latter who was trying very hard to avoid Yoongi's penetrating gaze as he continued to type random letters onto a word document.

The awkward silence soon became too much to bear as Jin piped up. 

"Do you need something, Yoongi?"

"Not really."

"Okay then." 

Jin resumed typing and Yoongi resumed staring.

"Seriously, what do you want, Min Yoongi?" He had now closed his laptop altogether, giving Yoongi the attention Jin thought he wanted. 

Yoongi slid over on the bench, his hands drifting to the lower half of the piano keys. When his fingers came down on the keyboard, the familiar melody of Heart and Soul sprung from the grand, but it sounded incomplete. Yoongi bounced as the low-toned notes bounced, his fingers playing a rough and warm staccato.

"I assume you know what's missing, don't you?" Yoongi said, invitingly, as he continued to play the unfinished melody.

"Damn you, Yoongi. I have work to do." Jin muttered, as he began to slowly open his laptop again.

Yoongi continued to play the bass clef portion of the song, the endless notes taunting Jin, who swore he could now hear a sharp ringing in his ears.

Finally relenting to Yoongi's will, Jin closed his computer with a slam, stomping over to the piano a little more ticked off than usual.

"Move aside! If we're going to do this, let's do this, you demon!" Jin said as he pushed Yoongi further left on the bench, settling himself down a bit too forcefully in the empty space on the right, ready whenever his companion was. 

He rolled up his sleeves and licked his lips as his nimble hands descended onto the white keys before him. Yoongi smirked as the two melodies converged. The iconic thrum of the jumping notes from Yoongi. The smooth transition from legato to staccato from Jin. It felt like everything was finally falling into place. For the first time in while, Yoongi could actually see Jin smiling as he focused on nothing but the notes in front of him, each keeping time in their heads. They played their parts as best as they could, all the while their shoulders and elbows repeatedly brushing up against each other, the small space provided by the bench bringing them closer than ever before. Jin felt his confidence rise and he let the notes dance and twirl in space, his competitive ferocity pouring out from Yoongi's playful challenge. 

Yoongi was just happy that Jin was happy.

When there came a lull in the bright song, Yoongi decided that it was the perfect opportunity to... spice things up a bit. 

His eyes narrowed as he looked over at Jin's hands, which were calmly playing the upper melody. Jin was humming along to the duet they had created together, contentedly allowing himself to take this mental break while playing such a simple song. Not for long, though, Yoongi's hands seemed to say as he abruptly scooted rightwards on the bench, overlapping his fingers with Jin's and attempting to forcibly switch parts.

"H-hey!" Jin shouted, his wavering voice a mixture of confusion and embarrassment from the close proximity with which Yoongi imposed on them.

"What?" Yoongi responded nonchalantly, his voice coming out a little more seductively than he had intended. It was a shame that his flirtatious tone was significantly drowned out by the dissonant melody coming out of the piano and his antics, if it could even be called a "melody" in the first place. The ugly sound spurred Jin to respond.

"Oh, screw you!" He said with a laugh, as he made the attempt to climb under Yoongi's arms and onto the left side of the seat.

Whoops!

As his sneaker got caught under the golden pedals beneath the piano, Jin found himself tripping and falling into Yoongi's lap, his arms catching themselves on the vertical edge of the bench. Hunched over, he gasped, his body completely perpendicular to Yoongi's legs. Beneath the arms which were slowly retracting from the piano's keyboard, Jin looked upwards at Yoongi's downturned face, his mouth shut tight as he stifled a laugh that was waiting to burst like a ticking time bomb, his cheeks full of hot air. Seeing Yoongi's shoulders shake with quiet laughter, Jin couldn't help but double over in hysterics, letting out the loudest and most stilted laugh Yoongi had ever heard and causing Yoongi to follow soon after. They sat in that same position, Jin still holding onto Yoongi's legs for dear life and Yoongi doubled over on Jin's back, obnoxiously giggling and guffawing.

Then came a knock at the practice room door. A small orange-haired boy slid the door open as he peaked inside. His voice was resolute as he said, "Could you please keep it down? We're trying to hold a club meeting over here and all we can hear is you two dying of laughter."

Yoongi's face turned beet red as he realized how the situation might have looked from an outside perspective. Jin, on the other hand, was as cool as a cucumber. Still trapped underneath Yoongi's arms, Jin responded with an unaffected demeanor, a pleasant smile appearing on his face. 

"No problem! We'll be sure to keep it down from now on." He wore a toothy grin.

"Thank you," the boy said bluntly, as he shut the door, leaving the pair once again in the sole company of themselves.

A short silence returned as Jin pulled himself out from under Yoongi, standing up and patting himself down. He turned to Yoongi, whose face was still flushed as he stared back, his mouth gaping wide in shock. They shared a look, and then promptly broke into laughter once again. With tears coming out of Jin's eyes, he put a shaky index finger on Yoongi's mouth teasingly.

"I said we would be quiet!" Jin half-whispered, half-giggled. 

"Then you be quiet first!" Yoongi whispered back, covering his mouth to control his laughter. 

They continued to bicker and tease and laugh as the sun became low in the sky. The blackboards were chalked up with hangman and tic tac toe games and scribbles and doodles. In big letters, written out were the words "YOONGI AND JIN WERE HERE", surrounded by Yoongi's addition of treble clefs and eighth notes and Jin's addition of flowers along the bottom edge of the board and a couple of stick figures fighting. As it was nearing time to leave, Jin wiped away the doodles, leaving only the written characters behind.

While clapping the chalk erasers out of the open window, letting the white dust float away on the autumn wind, Jin said, in a soft tone, "Thank you. I needed this."

"Don't mention it," Yoongi responded, packing the sheet music and pencils into his bag.

"If you don't mind," Jin said, still clapping away the dust, "could you pack my laptop into my backpack for me?"

"Sure thing." Yoongi zipped up his own bag and slung it over his shoulder as he grabbed Jin's laptop from the desk and yanked the charger out from the outlet. He slid the laptop into the main compartment when a certain book caught his eye.

"Hey... Jin?" He called, pulling out a small yellow textbook that said "Music Theory" on its cover.

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you an econ major?"

"Yep," Jin responded, eyebrows quirking in intrigue. "Why're you asking?"

"Then why do you have music theory books in your backpack?"

When Yoongi said this, Jin stopped in his tracks, leaning away from the window and shutting it closed.

"Uh..." Jin dropped the erasers onto the floor and rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to puzzle out an answer. This hesitance made Yoongi smile.

"What's it for, Seokjin?" He prodded.

"You know... just for fun," Jin answered shortly, picking up the erasers and putting them on the metal rim of the blackboards.

 _He cares,_ Yoongi thought, not giving a damn about Jin's obvious, but overwhelmingly cute, lie. As Jin stooped down to carry his backpack, Yoongi sprung up from his squatting position to wrap his arms around Jin from behind. 

The hug was surprisingly strong. Jin could smell that familiar scent of teakwood and lavender from his cologne, could feel his warm breath as Yoongi buried his face into his neck, could feel his heartbeat drum against his spine. Yoongi's arms around his waist, Jin grabbed onto his small hands protectively, their fingers intertwining.

"Well, what brought on this?" Jin laughed, embarrassment seeping into his words as his backpack slipped from his grip.

Yoongi didn't respond, merely hugging Jin tighter. Jin was glad that Yoongi was behind him.This way, he wouldn't be able to see his flushed face.Jin felt his heart fill with warmth, traveling from the edges of his fingertips through his veins and straight into that beating muscle that gives us life.As they stood there, not saying a single word, a solitary thought came into Jin's mind.

Something so precious could never be wrong, right?

_I had died Of the joy of love;_

_I lay buried In her arms;_

_I was awakened By her kisses;_

_I saw Heaven In her eyes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poem at the end is Seliger Tod (I had died/Of the joy of love) by Uhland!


	10. Thank Jin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi has something to show Jin.

"Okay," Yoongi said, taking his pencil out of his mouth and letting it roll onto the desk in front of him. Music sheets were sprawled all over the white surface, messy notes and thin lines scribbled roughly onto the pages. "I think it's ready."

He clicked out of the music processing software on his laptop, ejecting a little blue flash drive and shoving it in his front jean pocket. He slid the printed music sheets carefully into a green folder, taking extra caution to make sure none of pages got crumpled while in his backpack. Then, he headed off for practice room 304.

Sitting down at the piano bench, he placed the sheets of music onto the piano very delicately, arranging them so that they would be easy to play without having to flip any of the pages. His palms sweaty, he anxiously pulled out his phone and dialed Jin's phone number.

"Hello?" Jin answered immediately.

"Hey, Jin..." He clutched his phone close to his ear. "Are you free right now?"

"Just finishing up some last minute assignments," Jin responded, casually. His tone turned into one of concern. "Are you okay? Do you need something from me right now?"

"No. Everything's okay, so just take your time. It's just that I want you to meet me in room 304."

"Did I forget practice or something?" Jin asked, confused.

"No. Today's not a practice day."

"Then what for?" Jin's voice raised in pitch, a little exasperated by Yoongi's sudden request.

"You'll see when you get here. So stop asking questions and finish your homework." He added teasingly, amping up the suspense. "I'll see you later then." 

Before Jin could ask any more prodding questions, Yoongi hung up the phone, laying it on a chair next to him. Without pressing the keys of the piano so as to keep the quiet should Jin arrive at any moment, Yoongi practiced his piece. His hands were caked in sweat from the anticipation, and he found himself glancing every so often towards the sliding doors at the entrance of the room, stirring every time he thought he heard footsteps bounding down the halls.

When he heard the footsteps growing louder, he knew that it was showtime. As Jin flung the doors open and as Yoongi swung his head around to face him, Jin was met with the sweetest smile he had ever seen. Surprised, he hesitated, standing still in the entryway.

"Come in! I want to show you something."

Jin nodded and took a seat in the black plastic chair, leaning forward. Yoongi, meanwhile, placed his hands gently against the ivory keys.

As his fingers glided across the white and black, Yoongi closed his eyes, sinking into the music. He poured his feelings into the hulking mass in front of him, the heavy piano allowing him to produce a song so light and airy, reminiscent of a feather floating gracefully in the atmosphere. With each note that he touched and brought forward into their special space, Yoongi infused every thought of Jin, spilling forth from his fingertips and onto the keys. The tune was playful, yet serious. Simple, yet complex. It spoke of the comfort that Jin provided, of the worry that Jin brings him when he's upset, of Yoongi's eternal wish that the two could remain as they were, of a fear that maybe that future isn't meant to be.

From his seat behind the piano, Jin looked at the title scrawled in big letters across each music seat.

 _Thank You, Jin_ , it read, in those characteristic loops of Yoongi's.

Oh. So that's why he wasn't meant to see that post-it note.

Jin reached up to touch his cheek, his finger becoming damp as soon as he brushed against his skin. He clutched a shaky hand over his mouth, not wanting to let a single sigh escape from the gap between his lips. He closed his eyes, his eyelids clenched and unmoving from restraining the emotions he had bottled up somewhere from deep inside of him. He was overcome with emotion as he listened intently to the melody that Yoongi had written, so soothing and inviting, and yet so miserably and irrevocably despondent. It's not that Yoongi had written this song to induce such feelings. It's not that something so simple was meant to be grand in any capacity or sense of the word. It's that Jin couldn't help but listen to the song and feel lost, as though he wasn't meant to be there in that moment, as though he didn't deserve the love that was pouring out from the sea of black and white.

When the song came to a close, and Yoongi had broken out of his trance, he turned around with the bright smile that Jin loved to see.

That smile broke something in him. The tears that he tried so hard to hold back had come rushing forth, Yoongi's face quickly turning to that of panic.

He leapt out from behind the piano and kneeled next to Jin's seat, placing a careful hand on his thigh. "I didn't mean to make you cry!" He said, his face contorted in concern. Jin could only laugh.

"They're happy tears, Yoongi. Happy tears." He wiped his eyes, staring softly at the boy before him.

"If they're happy tears, does that mean you like it?"

"I don't like it," Jin smiled. "I love it."

Yoongi's face turned red as he turned away, hitting Jin playfully on the leg as he stood up. "You're so cheesy, you know that?"

"And you love me for it, don't you?" He smirked.

"Sure. Whatever you want to believe." He pat himself down, wiping the dust off from his jeans, then his eyes widened. "Oh, I almost forgot."

Taking out the little blue flash-drive from his front pocket, he handed it to Jin. Written in sharpie on top of white masking tape, _Thank You, Jin_ , was displayed proudly on the device.

"Here's the digital version of the song. Obviously, if you don't want it, you don't have to keep it." He held out the small flash drive to Jin with one hand and rubbed the back of his neck with the other, embarrassment flushing his cheeks a hint of red.

"Of course I want to keep it! Anything you make is wonderful, Yoongi. I'll listen to this when I get home."

"Okay. But don't say I didn't warn you." Yoongi laughed, relieved.

Tucking the flash drive into his bag, Jin said, "Thank you for making this. It means a lot."

"No problem. I just made it 'cause I wanted to." Yoongi shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant and cool-headed. "Anyways, you can go back to whatever you were doing now. I have to check out and get my assignments done before I pass out from the stress."

"Alright then. See ya." Jin said from his comfortable position in the chair, waving him off.

"Aren't you going to go too?" Yoongi asked while stooping down to pick up his backpack.

"No. I think I'll stay here a moment longer."

"Okay. See you tomorrow for practice then. Bye, Jin."

With that, Yoongi walked out of the door, leaving Jin in the silence of the room. He held his bag close to his chest as he stared out of the windows, the golden of the sunset creeping in through the glass that framed the classroom. He basked in the glow for a little while.

Leaving his backpack leaning against the chair, he crawled onto the piano bench, the warmth of the seat leaving a trace of Yoongi behind. Feeling a rush of a something that he couldn't quite place surge through him, Jin picked up his hands and set them down against the keyboard. With a determination in his eyes and in his fingertips, he played Liebenstraum no. 2 from memory, his years of no practice seemingly nonexistent as he let out all of the feelings that he could not express earlier.

For once, the music seemed to understand him. 

They were partners, rather than a perpetrator and a victim. They worked in harmony to bring joy instead of pain derived from unmet expectations. Jin could smile as he played with no audience around to judge him, no one to tell him that what he was doing was wrong or not enough. He was simply playing for the fun of it.

For once, Jin found himself falling in love with music again.


	11. Interlude 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pleasantries in the Park

It was a beautiful day. 

The sky was singing. The birds were blue. Everything was tranquil as Jin and Yoongi walked side by side, holding ice cream cones tight within their sticky grips.

"I can't believe you just got plain vanilla!" Jin said, staring at the pure white ice cream in Yoongi's hands.

"And I can't believe you got cotton candy! I feel like you're definitely going to get a sugar shock from that." He eyed Jin's cone. " I don't know how anyone can stomach anything so sickly sweet."

"Clearly, _I_ can. You can have your basic flavor. Leave me and my cotton candy alone in peace," He said as he licked the pink ice cream, the bright, colorful sprinkles falling off and onto the concrete path beneath as he did so.

"You know," Yoongi paused in brief contemplation. "This was a good idea—coming here, to the park."

"You deserve it! Did you hear yourself back there? That was _magical_. You were in need of a treat after that performance you pulled off." He said, in between licks of his sugary dessert. "And _I_ was in need of a break."

Yoongi blushed as Jin continued to lick the edges of the cone, making sure that none of the melted ice cream dripped onto the side of his hand. As they walked under the shade of the willow trees, Yoongi thought back to the practice room.

\----------------------------------------------------

He was staring absentmindedly from his usual seat behind the piano, his arms folded on top of the piano case, his cheeks pressed up against his folded arms. He stole a glance at Jin, sitting beside the open window, the translucent, pale white curtains fluttering behind him as the wind brushed past. He sat crosslegged in the black plastic chair. In his lap was a novel he had been obsessed with recently, the open pages revealing that he was a good three-quarters of the way through.

Something inside him changed when he looked at Jin. There was nothing special, no grand revelation, and yet, something was different.

Yoongi flipped the piano case open, his chest feeling light as he looked up at the music sheets in front of him. Then, he began.

He started off slowly, the pace calm and serene, building up in intensity as more and more arpeggios joined the mix. His back bent as he hunched over the piano, Yoongi swayed upwards with each crescendo and back down with each diminuendo, each bounce and lilt of the music displaying itself physically through his actions. His hands throbbed against the clack of the keys like a drumming heartbeat. His breaths were rough and shallow, as if he were racing alongside the notes that were escaping from the open back of the grand, his hands moving about the keyboard erratically as he dissolved into the music. It made its way into every corner and crack of the classroom, the sonorous deep voice of the piano leaving no silence behind.

As his breath stilled and his eyes closed, he could only see that freeze frame image of Jin sitting next to him, silently. The warm light scattered through his smooth black hair. A glint bouncing off of his glasses and onto the pages in front of him. Jin's lips pursed as he was absorbed into a particularly dramatic scene, from what Yoongi could only assume, as his index and middle finger gripped tight onto the next page, eager to flip it and continue on with the story. 

Time stood still inside that head of his.

Even while closing his eyes, the notes came naturally to Yoongi, who had played this piece dozens of times over the course of Jin's mentorship so as to cement it in his muscle memory. His chest swelling and dying as the notes did, his breath slowing as the song came to an end, Yoongi's eyes fluttered open. He was back to present reality, a reality where he had noticed that he was beaming the entire time.

He twisted around in his seat, looking at Jin with his gummy smile, the sight of his best friend managing to only widen his huge grin. Jin was standing up, his book clattered against the tiles, the page he was on crumpled against the tile floor. His delicate fingers were clasped together in excitement, his knuckles growing yellow from the pressure. He leaped over his chair, almost knocking it over, and wrapped his arms around Yoongi.

"Yoongi, you did it!" Jin shouted as he shook his companion.

"I did?" Yoongi said, still smiling from ear to ear.

"Yes, Yoongi, you did! You glorious human being, you. That was the best thing I have ever heard in my entire life!" Jin smirked before continuing, "And that's saying something, considering you have me to compete with."

"Not everything has to be about you, you know." Yoongi replied, secretly overjoyed at Jin's compliment. Jin, meanwhile, ignored Yoongi as he let him go, hopping around the classroom and shouting, waving his arms high in the air from the sheer excitement of it all. Yoongi sat still on the piano bench, just watching his friend bumble about the room, potentially even more ecstatic about Yoongi's performance than he was about it himself.

After making a complete circle around the small sanctuary of practice room 304, Jin returned to Yoongi's side, panting and out of breath. He squeezed Yoongi in an even tighter hug than before.

"I'm so happy, I... I could kiss you!" He shouted, giving not a second thought to his careless words.

Yoongi stood silent, that simple comment rendering him unable to reply, but comfortable within Jin's embrace nonetheless.

\----------------------------------------------------

Yoongi's face became redder as he recalled this moment, but perhaps that was simply the effect of the sun beating down on them. One thing led to another, and Jin suggested they go out for ice cream to celebrate their small victory. And now, here they are, taking a leisurely stroll in the park on a bright mid-Autumn day.

As they walked around the edge of the man-made lake located in the heart of the community center, Jin spotted a vendor dressed in a clean white polo standing on a dock, selling rides on little swan boats where customers would pedal themselves. The large birds glided through the thick green water as small children and couples alike piloted them.

"Hey, we should do that!" Jin said, a small pink line of cotton candied ice cream dripping down his chin. His eyes bright and animated, his cone had now made its complete escape into the hatch that was his mouth.

"Sure. But before we do that, we should clean you up a little first."

Taking a tissue out of his bag, he reached up towards Jin's face, his tender touch wiping away the ice cream residue. Really, it was only an excuse to touch him, but Jin didn't seem to mind or notice at all.

"Thank you." He pat his stomach happily, simply grateful for the delicious treat he had just consumed. He approached the dock with a bounce in his steps, taking out the wallet from the front pocket of his bag. "One ride please!" He said to the vendor, who then directed them to one of the boats, once they had paid for their little rendezvous on the lake. Jin entered first, sitting on the left side, and Yoongi followed, settling on the right side. The big head of the swan partially obscured their forward facing view, but it was much more comical than it was annoying.

Commenting on random things like the sunny weather or the little girl in pigtails that was bounding down the sidewalk or that big Samoyed dog who looked like a small speck amidst the greenery, the two pedaled aimlessly, going wherever their legs seemed to want to take them. They took in the peaceful scenery in between their speckled conversation, the sunlight playing on the waves of the deep green. Reorienting himself, Jin stood up for a brief moment, which tilted the boat ever so slightly to the right, splashing Yoongi and causing a damp mark to appear on his jeans.

"Hey!" Yoongi said with a cheeky grin, retaliating by dipping his hands in the water and flicking a few droplets in Jin's direction.

"It's not my fault water got on you!" Jin half-shouted, half-squealed as he jerked backwards, trying to avoid Yoongi's all too unpleasant surprise. "Is that really how you're going to be?"

"Uh... yeah?" He winked.

"Wipe that stupid smirk off your face, or I'll splash you back," Jin said, a bitter smile of his own growing on his face.

"Hey, that's not fair! You already splashed me!"

"Not on purpose, you butt!"

Yoongi's cheeks inflated suddenly as he inhaled sharply, Jin's odd choice of pejorative causing Yoongi to break into laughter. "You didn't just seriously use the word _butt_ in a conversation."

"So what if I did. You. Butt." Jin smiled with a kind of assertive ferocity present in his eyes.

Yoongi's body folded over in hysterics as Jin pouted, their pedaling ceasing to let Yoongi breathe for a second.

When he was finally able to catch his breath, Yoongi looked up. From behind the willow trees that obscured the park path, he could see a tanned figure jogging, weaving their way through the pedestrians minding their own business.

Oh no. The smile dropped from Yoongi's face immediately.

Jin was thankfully too busy looking at the sky to notice the unwelcome stranger, but Yoongi started pedaling harder on the right, turning the boat in a different direction and towards a much better view of the open lake.

"What was that for?" Jin asked, puzzled. "Do you want to go in another direction?"

"Yeah, I guess? I just did it on a whim," Yoongi answered, running his hands through his hair. His foot tapped impatiently on the bottom of the boat, the plastic emitting a deep, clunky noise.

The peaceful atmosphere of the park was soon interrupted by the sound of loud honking on the westward edge of the lake. A cloud of white descended on the green, small orange feet waddling on the murky bay as they collectively honked and were otherwise very noisy.

"Whoa! There's real swans out on the lake now. I want to get closer to them!" Jin said, eyes shining as he readied his feet on the pedals. Yoongi winced, now hesitant to approach the dock, but even more terrified of what would happen if he didn't comply with Jin's demands to see some fluffy creatures. He pedaled slowly, hoping that he could delay their departure, at least for some time. Jin, in his excitement, forgot to match pace with his companion, and so they started turning around in circles, much to the rest of the lakegoers amusement. Though it wasn't exactly as planned, Yoongi felt some relief knowing that the jogger might have gone on his merry way during this commotion.

When Jin had realized and corrected this mistake, they soon approached the docks. Jin bumbled out of the boat first, his long legs carrying him swiftly to the bay of the lake, with Yoongi following after. Strolling casually, hands comfortably folded within his sweatshirt pocket, Yoongi didn't think much as he walked along the shoreline.

That is, until the Jin who was bounding so joyfully towards the cloud of white had now stopped, dead in his tracks. Yoongi titled his head to the right, and up ahead on the sidewalk was the jogger, speeding away. Though his back was turned, it was obvious who it was, and how his leaving image could instill such fear in another person. Before he could let anything else happen, Yoongi grabbed Jin's hand, turned him around in the opposite direction, and started walking away from the docks and away from the edge of the lake.

Their feet pounding against the concrete finally met smooth lawn that stretched for miles. Still holding hands, Yoongi was fuming as he carried Jin away from the scene. He might not have understood what Jin's previous relationship was like, but he sure as hell understood what it looked like when someone was too afraid to move. That fear isn't exactly common, is it? He clenched his jaw as he thought of a million different ways he could get payback on the man who had hurt his best friend like that.

Finding refuge underneath the shade of a willow tree, Jin and Yoongi found themselves in a shaded corner of the park, far away from any of the main attractions and crowds. The thin branches drooping towards the ground were swaying in the gentle wind, a marked contrast to the upset they had experienced earlier. Jin was the first to sit down on the grass, legs bent close to his body, feet parting the small white flowers on the weeds of the park lawn. He plucked one, running his index finger along its short petals.

Yoongi kept watch over Jin, his tented eyebrows showing his obvious displeasure as he bit the inside corner of his mouth. One hand placed on the trunk of the tree, he sighed, leaning his body forward, trying his best to concentrate and calm down.

Out of the silence, Jin spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Two little words made Yoongi turn immediately to face Jin, who was looking down at the flowers below him, his arms wrapped tight around his legs. His chin resting on his knees, he looked like he couldn't feel anything. Anything at all.

"What are you sorry for?" Yoongi said, his tone of voice trying to hide his anger, but not very well.

"For ruining our day out."

Yoongi stepped closer. "You didn't ruin anything! Don't say that. It's HE who-"

"Please," Jin said, picking up another flower, twisting its stem until it broke, the dewy inside now exposed. He tossed the flower away, its white and green disappearing beneath the tall grass the was due for a cut any day now. "It's my fault."

"Says who, Jin? I'm serious, if he comes anywhere close to you, I will knock him upside the head until he starts seeing daisies." He cracked his knuckles, a sly smirk appearing on his face as he imagined his fist crashing through a skull, bones shattering in a million different places. Morbid.

"I don't know if I deserve that." Jin's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. Yoongi crouched down next to Jin at eye level.

"You deserve the world, Jin." His statement was firm, resolute, cheesy, but nevertheless, sincere.

Jin's face contorted for a split second before returning to normalcy, his face outwardly rejecting the notion that he could be deserving of anything. Anything at all.

"I'm sorry for worrying you," he said, standing up. "We should go now. I'm fine."

"Sit back down, Jin. Think about this for a second." Yoongi grabbed Jin's hand again, tugging on it from his seat in the grass. The wind blowing past rattled and shook the white flowers, vibrating like a wave, some breaking free from their roots. "You can't just keep pretending like everything's fine."

Yoongi's slight insistence was all it took. Jin crashed to the ground, his knees digging into the dirt, the markings of grass stains already appearing on his blue jeans. "You're right." He said. "I'm not fine. I never want to see his stupid face ever again."

Yoongi shifted positions, sitting crosslegged as he held Jin's hand within his. His eyes were alert, ready to listen to any concerns that Jin could manage to tell him.

Jin leaned his back against the tree trunk. "I haven't thought about him for a long time, but just seeing him once brings back this horrible flood of memories, and it's almost like... drowning?" He plucked another flower, his eyes focusing on its shadow against the grass. "Do you get it? I'm so preoccupied with who I was when I was with him. He's everything and nothing at all. And where does that leave me? Alone? Lost? Am I nothing too?"

Jin remained expressionless. Numb.

"Is this really all that I'm going to be? It all sounds so dramatic, but I really don't know who I am without him. I'm nothing. He's nothing. We were nothing together. And now I'm confused, because recently, I've been wanting to feel _something_ , and yet feeling something makes me guilty because maybe I don't deserve it. It's different, abnormal. I can't tell the difference between what's real and what's not, and what I want versus what reality is. And I want to... to.... but I can't let myself do that again. Not again."

Yoongi squeezed Jin's hand tighter.

"Seokjin..." Yoongi said, in a broken voice. Jin expected as much.

"Well... it's the truth," Jin replied. His face was cast downward, an unblinking expression.

"Jin, I..." Yoongi began to speak. Jin turned to him, locking eyes. "I may not be the best with words. I don't know how to express myself very well, and I've never had as many relationships as you had, but I don't think that matters, because regardless of what you may think, you are deserving of love."

Jin smiled weakly. His eye twitched slightly as he turned to the side, looking out at the blue sky above. The clouds were rolling on in the distance, the sun peeking down below. He squinted at how bright it was becoming.

"Jin. Please listen to this closely, because I won't repeat myself. You're a good person. You've singlehandedly forced me to reevaluate my own life, helping me learn how to cook, how to take care of myself and my groceries. You've taught me that it's okay to be selfish."

Jin closed his eyes, the tension releasing from his shoulders.

"I want you to be selfish. You've been too good to me. You're so comfortable and easy to talk to, and I find that, whenever we hang out, while we have so many things we can say, it's the silence that's easy between us. Just being around you makes me... happy." Yoongi uttered this last line in more of a whisper, using his free hand to cover his blushing face. "I... want you to be selfish."

Jin glanced over at Yoongi, who was avoiding eye contact as best as he could. He had never heard Yoongi talk so much before, or so passionately, for that matter. Frankly, he was surprised to find out that Yoongi thought about him almost as much as he thought about Yoongi.

As the sun peeked through the leaves, the light descended on the crown of Yoongi's blond head like a halo. His eyes were a soft brown, as dark and as homely as the dirt beneath them, his lips a rose pink. In this moment, Yoongi had never looked more handsome to Jin, and he was just beginning to understand why. Very carefully, Jin reached out with his other hand to pat Yoongi's head. Running his fingers through his hair, Jin could feel the warmth of the scattered sunlight as well as a feeling rising in his chest.

"What is that for?" Yoongi said, his words muffled by his hand, which was still covering his mouth.

"Oh, just getting a leaf off."

They returned to silence for the good part of 30 minutes until Jin spoke up again. It seemed he was always the one starting these conversations, but a conversation had to be had regardless.

"Thank you, for saying what you said, and for being here for me in general. If it's alright with you, I think I owe it to you to tell you what happened."

Yoongi nodded, letting Jin know that it was alright to continue. Preceding with a sigh, Jin gave Yoongi's hand one last big squeeze.

"I've had a record, you could say, of bad relationships. I don't know if it's me or them, but it seemed like I could never be quite enough. I never met anyone's expectations for who I was. Heh." He let out a short chuckle. "Maybe that's why I quit piano." He shook his head.

"Anyways, that changed when I met... him. He told me that I was enough, as I was. That it was alright to give up and to be less than, as that was all I would ever be anyway. I... He..." He suddenly looked over at Yoongi, panicked. The words wouldn't come easily, but Yoongi would wait as long as it took.

"We weren't right for each other. Obviously, as he cheated on me. Honestly, I can't believe that _that_ was the last straw instead of literally _anything_ else." He paused. "Am I speaking too much? I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for being honest," Yoongi said. Though his tone was blunt, Jin could tell that it was spoken with every hint of affection.

"Ah, thank you. Anyways, it took me a long time to figure out that my default isn't being miserable 24/7. I had met him when I was already low, and those affirmations that being low was in fact a _good_ thing seemed to hold some sort of sick, twisted comfort. He certainly made me think that way, and I'm not sure how long it will take me to break out of that self-loathing cycle. Seeing him... makes me feel all those things over and over again." He met eyes with Yoongi, his expression softening. Maybe he had said too much. Maybe he was being too open. Maybe it was alright, because it was Yoongi, after all, who had let him be so vulnerable.

"I'm so sorry. For being useless. I shouldn't be afraid, and yet, here I am. _Afraid_."

"It's ok to be afraid. We can be afraid together," Yoongi said, with an all too hilarious straight face.

"You're so cheesy, you know that?" Jin broke free of Yoongi's grip to shove him slightly towards the right.

"You tell me that every time, but hey. At least I got you to smile."

And he did.

Jin was smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, though, I hope it was worth it. I started writing the end of the chapter, which happens to be the beginning of the next chapter, instead, so it took a little longer to pump this one out. As always, thank you so much for reading and following this story's development! I appreciate every single one of you readers out there!


	12. Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin comes to a conclusion.

Jin stared out of the yellow taxi cab, head leaned back against the car seat, his arm settled lightly against the window. He was becoming too aware of Yoongi's presence beside him, their knees occasionally bumping against each other in the too tight space within the black interior. Yoongi was fast asleep, arms comfortably crossed as his head lolled from side to side with each swing of the car. Jin tried his best not to look in that direction.

The night cityscape was bustling as always. Traffic lights whirred past, flurries of greens, reds, and yellows filling his mind's eye. The light pollution blocked out all of the stars in the sky, revealing an endless black that stretched on for an innumerable amount of miles above. Groups of friends walked down the sidewalks hand in hand, dizzy and tipsy from their night out. Workers were exiting in droves from long skyscrapers, exhausted from overtime and all too ready to go back home to a warm bed. Despite all of this going on around him, Jin found that he couldn't quite concentrate on anything particular at the moment.

When the taxi pulled up to Jin's apartment, Jin opened the car door as quietly as he could. Yoongi, however, stirred awake anyway.

"Ah," Yoongi uttered, his eyelids shutting and opening as easily as a light switch, too tired to stay open.

For a brief second, Jin pointed at his apartment behind him, his thumb flicked backwards. "Do you wanna go-" But he cut himself short and shook his head. Instead, the words that escaped his mouth were "Nevermind. Goodnight, Yoongi."

Yoongi was thankfully not awake enough to realize Jin's blunder and replied as normal. "Goodnight. Take care, Jin."

"Yeah..." Jin trailed off. He waved, and the taxi disappeared.

With a squeak, the white door of his apartment shuddered open. It was in disarray as usual. Cans of Redbull were streaked out across the carpet from when he tried, and failed, to lazily throw them basketball-style into the trashcan from his seat on the couch. He tossed his bag on the floor in the entryway, accidentally hitting the white metal shoe-rack and causing a few slippers to topple off. He ignored them, though, and made his way to his bedroom, falling headfirst into the navy comforters. He flipped around and stared up at the baby blue ceiling.

All he could think about was that shy expression. White cheeks as cute as dumplings. Strands of blond hair that held the value of gold. Brown eyes worth the weight of the entire world. His calloused hands held within his.

_Fuck._

He was in love.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Not again. Not again. Not again. Not again.

He shot upright, cheeks flushed from this new realization. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted the book lying in wait underneath the desk, and he became filled with a sudden, all-consuming rage. With fast steps, he reached under the desk and brought the book back to the bed, a heat rising in his lungs. Every breath filled with fire, he tore the pages out, one by one.

Page one, gone. Page two, gone. Page three, four, five, six, seven...

They all disappeared into the air as he sat in the center of the bedsheets, twisting the comforter, blue as deep as the ocean. It was like he was drowning again. He swallowed big gasps of air, fueling the fire raging from inside, adding to each tongue-licked flame. His internal heat channeled into his hands, moving as fast as lightning to tear every word from this earth, never to be seen again on a mortal plane. The scraps tossed into the bubble-like room atmosphere floated back down like snowflakes.

When he was finished, his chest heaved, his breath was ragged, and his hands were burning hot red. Surrounded by a sea of torn pages, he stared at his palms, the lifelines etched like old scars. Pulsating, vibrating. His hands were shaking, and he couldn't get them to stop.

About to shove all of the pages onto the lilac carpet, his eyes fell on one particular line at the top of the page.

" _Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart._ "

He took that page, crumpled it into a ball in his fist, opened up his balcony window, and tossed it into the freezing city air.  
  
  


\--------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  


A couple of days later, practice had just finished, Yoongi and Jin packing their bags in their own little corners of the room. Crushed juice cans and empty, greasy potato chip bags lay scattered across desktop surfaces. Yoongi shoved them into the trash can in one fell swoop, wiping his dirty hands on his jeans.

"You've been doing really well lately," Jin said while zipping up his black bag. "I mean it. I seriously think you have what it takes to win this competition!" He faced Yoongi, slipping his backpack over his shoulders.

"Thank you, but you've been a big help too. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been here to help me through it."

"Oh, don't say that!" Jin swatted at the air in front of him, secretly basking in the attention, eager for more.

"No, I'm serious. Jin, thank you for being here for me even though you don't have to be. Thank you for accompanying me on grocery trips. Thank you for coming over every now and then and helping me cook or watch the occasional movie or play the occasional video game. Thank you for existing."

"Hah! Those are certainly some high praises. What's gotten into you today? Are you in love with me or something?" Jin smirked, his hands settled confidently on his hips. There was a pause after Jin posed this teasing question.

A million thoughts ran through Yoongi's head when he heard the L word come out of Jin's lips, but before his brain could catch up with his mouth, he found himself saying  
  
  


"Yes."   
  
  


Yoongi was breathless. It was a sudden confession, sure, and yet, he felt weightless. His eyes alight with a certain spark, he looked up at the now shocked Jin.

The air in the classroom grew still as Yoongi awaited Jin's response. The anxiety came rushing in. Was this the right moment? Should he have kept quiet, simply nodding and laughing along? Why did he say anything at all? Oh my god. What is Jin going to say?

It was as though time had come to a crawl. Yoongi's senses became so acute in that passing second. His ears seemed fine-tuned to the faint rock music playing in the ear of a janitor as he mopped the floors, his nasal receptors taking in the scent of baking bread in the next door classroom, his eyes locked onto the sight of Jin, who looked a little bit too displeased upon hearing the fact that someone was in love with him.

"What?" Jin shook his head, biting his lips. "No. You don't love me, so don't joke with me. It was a joke, right? That's not fair. Not fair at all..." He forced a laugh, his breath becoming tight in his throat.

It was now Yoongi's turn to question Jin, staring blankly back before shaking his head vehemently, completely and utterly bewildered. Out of all the responses that the kind Jin could have given, this was _not_ the response that Yoongi had expected.

"What?" Yoongi said.

"Y-you don't love me!" Jin sputtered, his voice taking on a grating, panicked tone as his fingers took hold of the edges of his sweater. He played with the soft yarn, pulling and tugging on the individual strings as he tried to distract himself from the present. It was a joke, right?

"Of course, I love you!" Yoongi answered immediately and forcefully. "What makes you think that I don't?"

Damn it.

So it wasn't a joke.

"I..." Jin stammered. "I don't know! I just know that you don't, that's for sure!"

Jin stepped backwards, pulling even harder on the loose strings of his sweater, so much so that it seemed like it would have ripped in half if he continued going at this rate.

"Are you being serious, Jin? You can't pretend to know how I feel! So why..."

Jin stalked off to the corner of the room, arms folded and huffing. He couldn't bring himself to look at Yoongi right now. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, although he couldn't puzzle out if it was from love or from anger. He didn't need anymore excitement in his life. He already had enough of that with...

"Why are you so upset?" Yoongi spoke up, dejectedly.

"I-I don't know! I guess that just wasn't the answer I was expecting, that's all." Beads of sweat started to drip from his forehead. "This is all very sudden."

"Are you really that upset that I'm in love with you?" Yoongi started to rise from his seat. "Do you really not want me to love you _that badly_?"

Yoongi, now standing, had pushed his chair aside with a resounding squeak, causing Jin to wince. His broken, shallow voice stood in stark contrast to the ear-splitting sound of metal against linoleum as he managed to say, "Am I really that undesirable?"

Jin felt his heart sink in his chest. That wasn't true. That's not what he meant. Not what he meant at all. But despite this gnawing feeling, he responded quickly.

"But you don't love me, so it doesn't matter!"

"Why do you keep saying that?" Yoongi said, exasperated.

"I don't know! I don't know a lot of things, Min Yoongi, okay?! Especially not right now."

Yoongi began to get ticked off, his sorrow subsiding and being replaced with a feeling of strong annoyance. "What's love to you, anyhow, for someone who claims to know so much about how I apparently _DON'T_ love you!"

Various expressions of equal parts contempt and confusion played on Jin's face. Outside, a couple of college students exited their club classrooms, their loud conversations and footsteps filling the silence for the pair when Jin couldn't come up with an answer. Jin's eyes darted across the classroom. He didn't quite know the answer himself, but he felt something stir from deep inside him. That one question prompted him to confront everything that had built up over the course of their relationship, and not in a good way. Why _did_ he not want Yoongi to love him? After all, didn't he also...? No. No way. There was no way he was going to let himself come to that conclusion. He thought back to the Princess Bride they had watched some time ago, though the memory had become very hazy in the heat of the moment. Maybe there lied a quick answer.

"Love is... grand! And outrageous! And passionate! It's something big, not an answer to a passing question that was said on a whim!" He said this last part like he was biting back hidden venom.

Yoongi's annoyance faded upon hearing Jin's response. His eyes grew soft as he sat back down in his seat, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. He understood how different their conceptions of love were in that moment, and it only served to bring him more pain.

"That's not what love is to me."

"Well, if you love me so much, what exactly about me makes you love me, huh? You can at least answer that, can't you?" A sort of sick satisfaction coursed within Jin upon saying these words, like he would finally catch Yoongi in his own trap, somehow proving the reality that Yoongi couldn't possibly have been in love with him. Just like he wanted.

Wait. Why was he being so adamant about this anyway? Why did something inside Jin tell him that he cared so much about whether or not Yoongi loved him, so much so, that it was better to deny the love of its very existence, denying that it was ever there in the first place?

"I don't love you in any special way," Yoongi answered simply. All previous exasperation had now left his words. It was like he was giving silence a voice, unaltered and unaffected. Just pure, objective noise. "I just love you. That's it." Yoongi paused, eyebrows tenting as he looked down at the floor in brief contemplation, then back up into Jin's eyes.   
  
  


" _Isn't that enough for you_?"  
  
  


With those words, Jin was thrust back in time.

He was sitting in this same classroom, holding a cold, soaking Yoongi within his arms, resting his head on Yoongi's drenched hair as the rain splashed down onto the cold, wet world below. It tapped rhythmically against the window panes, creating a drumbeat that his heart seemed to march in tune with. Yoongi had just asked why Jin was so nice to him, and Jin had answered with those exact words. Weren't the words that he had said on that rainy afternoon—didn't they come from a place of love too?

Jin stared at Yoongi, saying nothing, his eyes just as cold as the grey sky on that day. He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it shut with a snap. Wordlessly, he grabbed his bag, and shot out of the practice room doors.

Silence invaded the classroom when Jin left. A part of Yoongi half expected to follow him afterwards, but, over the course of their conversation, he became much too tired. With what little strength he had left, he dragged his chair to the window, propped his arms up on the windowsill, and basked in the hot glow of the setting sun.

Everything was fine before he had said those immortal words. He just _had_ to mess up a perfectly good friendship with his own stupid little feelings, didn't he?

Suddenly, a memory hit Yoongi with a bad taste in his mouth. Yoongi had remembered the night after they first met, the breeze blowing through the open window of his car as he leaned his head against the steering wheel, his head dizzy from the feelings of first love. He was so excited to have found someone to share memories with, so excited for what was to come.

Despite that electricity he felt lingering in the frosty air on that night, he never could have expected—nor wanted— _this_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D Now wasn't that a fun chapter! The end of this chapter was what I wrote first before the previous chapter, but I felt like it needed to be broken up into two parts instead. I hope you enjoy (or don't enjoy hehe).


	13. There are Two Sides to Every Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remembering why we are here, and learning to move on, is rotten work.

It's so empty...  
  
  
  
  
  


...goes the understatement of the century.

For the entirety of his college career, Yoongi was quite used to spending time alone in the practice room, accompanied by nothing but the dulcet tones of the piano. But when you spend enough time with someone, even the most solitary people can become lonely. About two weeks had passed since Jin stopped coming to practice. No text messages, no phone calls, no FaceTimes: absolute radio silence from the one he held so dear. And for some reason, Yoongi was beginning to feel like he deserved it.

He had since moved on in his practice to the final composition, Liebestraum no. 3, and he was thankful that he was already plenty well-versed in the piece to not need Jin's help. However, that didn't stop him from missing his second half immensely.

It was so quiet these days. Late November meant that students were getting ready to go home on holiday back to their parents, and that others were too busy studying for their exams to even go to after school activities, much less stay on campus for any longer than they had to. On days like this, Yoongi used to relish in the much needed silence—better to hear his own notes, after all—but there was something missing, and it was obvious as to what that was.

Yoongi felt a pang in his chest as he sat still on the piano bench. The sun had a tendency to set earlier this late in the year, so he was left in utter darkness aside from the white gleam of the artificial light panels installed in the ceiling. His hands had not moved an inch from his lap. His mind had already begun to drift to better days.

The high-pitched laughter. The voice that could switch from honey-silken smooth to that of a grating chalkboard in a matter of seconds. That awful tendency to wink and throw finger guns in the air whenever he was flustered. The way his cheeks would get so puffy when he ate. God, Yoongi missed it all. And that absence left Yoongi feeling completely and utterly lost.

What did it mean to love someone, anyway? Why was Jin so adamant that Yoongi didn't love him? And why was Yoongi so sure that he did?

There wasn't a simple answer to any of this, Yoongi knew. The only thing that was certain was that Yoongi missed that stupid face more than anything in the world.

What was he doing here, in this place? This room contained only fragments of broken memories and lost causes. He has a keyboard back in his dorm that he could always use to practice instead, so why was he here? Was it perhaps because he was clinging on to the fantasy that, one day, Jin would change his mind and show up out of the blue, ready to take Yoongi back into his arms and hold him close and tell him he loves him and maybe even kiss him, just one sweet, gorgeous "Welcome Home" peck?

No! That's silly!  
  
  
  
  
  


Ahem...

Regardless, being here alone in the dark of the afternoon settled him with a chilling feeling. He looked out at the black of the piano's surface, the keys covered by their smooth case that he barely even touched for the duration of practice. The mere thought of touching their ivory skins would bring on a sense of unbearable longing, and yet, Yoongi flipped open the case.

They were still, like staring out at a white lake, swans flocking together so as to create a milky way of feathers, clouding the blue buried underneath. They glimmered under the glare of the artificial lighting.

Ah.

So that's why he stayed.

Because music is his everything.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Yoongi was six when his mother was diagnosed with a weak heart. As all young children are, he didn't understand what it really, truly meant. He just knew that things would never be the same again.

The first time she collapsed, a neighbor from the next-door apartment was over for dinner. His parents were laughing and joking around after a long day at work in their family restaurant, taking a much needed break during the holiday season. Yoongi and his older brother were sitting in front of the TV, watching the annual superhero Christmas special, donning raggedy blankets as capes and running around the living room excitedly, arms spread wide as if soaring through the air. Their attention focused on the static of the television screen, they had barely turned around when they heard a large thud from the kitchen table behind them. Their father screamed in panic as the neighbor quickly dialed emergency services, rushing out to their car to get her to the hospital. Yoongi and his brother were left alone in their small apartment. They turned off the TV and waited.

Their dad didn't come home until the next morning, tired and out of breath. Wrinkles and crows feet seemed to grow out along his features like sprawling vines. He greeted his sons with a weak smile on his face and a kiss on each cheek. Their mother was safe and healthy, thankfully, and he would bring them to the hospital to visit once school was over. 

The drive to the elementary was so quiet that Yoongi could hear the sound of his own heart beating through his chest.

The next thing Yoongi could remember was sitting on the cold tiles of the patient room, playing silently with a red toy car that he drove along the edges of each white surface, the cracks separating each tile becoming potholes to the seven-year-old's imagination. Their mother was peacefully asleep, her careful and steady breaths giving a sigh of relief to each of the sons. When she had awoken, her eyes had lost that sheen they so often carried, replaced by the reflection of the glaring white hospital lights. She gestured for her sons to come close and squeezed them as tight as she could within her arms and with what strength she could muster. Yoongi fell asleep curled up next to her on the narrow hospital bed. He wished that that warmth would never leave him.

This had become his life now. His mother would be in and out of hospitals getting treatment, and the cost of the medical bills were stacking up with each new visit. It was worth it, to see her alive and well, but it necessitated his father to take on more and more responsibilities in the restaurant in order to make up for losses and for their rent. Their landlord wasn't exactly the most forgiving type. Their mother slept more frequently than usual, and she was becoming too fatigued to play with the boys as much as she wanted.

Then, they found the piano.

Walking home on their way back from school, Yoongi and his brother found an abandoned brown upright piano sitting on the side of the road, not very far from the apartment complex. On the music desk was a sign that read "TAKE ME. STICKY KEYS." 

Though its frame was worn and battered, and its lid was covered in dust and dead leaves, Yoongi saw life in what others would have seen as discarded trash. Something from within that piano screamed at Yoongi. Something broken could be born anew. Begging his father to go back and retrieve the piano, Yoongi was filled with confidence as he approached the instrument, now taking up ample space in their humble living room. At his school library, he checked out books on how to play piano for beginners, researching the bare essentials of music theory in his free time whenever he was finished with homework. His school's music teacher even offered to give the boy free lessons, once he saw his passion to conquer the instrument, and every Monday he would come over to the apartment and guide little Yoongi in the art of classical piano.

What made little Yoongi decide to stick with piano for the rest of his life, however, was the pleasant smile on his mother's face whenever she was home. Yoongi's mother wasn't awake for long periods of time, and if she was, she would be working in the restaurant, helping out his father as best as she could, given her situation.

But Yoongi remembered vividly the first time he played a finished piece for her. Dragging his mother to the living room sofa with his tiny ten-year-old hands, he sat at the piano eagerly, hearing her let out a sigh and wear that same placid smile.

Now, he wasn't perfect—far from it, actually—but he had a passion alight in his eyes and in his hands, and that passion spilled out from his soul and onto the piano keys like it was his canvas. Broad strokes of blue painted with smooth legato. Dashes of yellow sprinkled with staccato. Lines of red etched with rapid tremolos. Yoongi painted a world bursting with color with his music, and anyone listening within a mile radius could feel it too. His world brought a smile—that real, genuine kind of smile—to her face, and most importantly, to his own.

His life would never be the same again.

As Yoongi reminisced on the life he had led, he leaned forward and set his hands firmly on the ivory keys. He had turned to music when life became rough, the music that was filled with joy and meaning. He would never lose sight of that joy ever again, he vowed to himself, and he set to work preparing for the competition that would ensure that everlasting dream.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Jin sat in the middle of his couch racked with guilt. He panicked, as he always does, but this time, he was feeling a particular sense of foreboding. He knew that it was wrong of him to disregard Yoongi's feelings, but at the same time, what else could he have done?

Sure, he could have said "I love you too" like a normal person, but if he was normal, would he _really_ be here right now, wallowing in sorrow all by himself? 

No?

Duh.

He turned around on his side to face the small coffee table in front of him, burying his cheek in the fluffy, itchy white throw pillow. He grabbed a small blanket and wrapped it around himself, like a sad burrito of pain.

But what if Yoongi was lying? About loving him?

_You know he wouldn't do that. He's an awful liar._

No. No. Jin knew that fact very well. But what if Yoongi's lying to _himself_? You know... the way _He_ did?

_But is Yoongi really that similar to #######?_

What if he is and Jin just doesn't know it? Clearly, he was of the wrong judgement when he got into _that_ relationship. It doesn't matter how Jin feels about him, because what if he's wrong about Yoongi? And he's always been right, so statistically speaking, he's bound to be wrong at some point, right? Right?

_You're confusing yourself._

No, he's not! He's just being logical about it! For once in his god-forsaken life, maybe he should be logical about things instead of emotional. Emotional things get him into trouble, after all.

Jin slapped himself lightly across the cheek. This line of thinking wasn't going to do him any good at this rate. Maybe some light winter cleaning should do the trick; distractions were always key when it came to mental breakdowns.

He stood up from his seat on the couch and grabbed a black trash bag from the kitchen. He maneuvered his way through the pigsty that became his home and started picking up the plastic wrappers, old aluminum cans, and basically any junk that was lying around on the floor and shoving them into the trash. Then, he tackled the monster that was his kitchen sink, wrestling the plates and silverware with his trusty yellow rubber gloves, green sponge, and soap. Next, time for some vacuuming, the whir of the clunky metal appliance along the carpet floor conveniently drowning out any possible intrusive thoughts that were likely to pop into his head.

With all of those chores done, Jin's apartment was looking brand new, or as new as a college student's apartment could look, at least. He had been drowning in sorrow for a long time now, that he was forgetting to live. It was nice to take a step back and realize that he could do good sometimes, instead of mess everything up. Isn't that comforting?

Getting up from his couch one final time, Jin entered his bedroom, determined to clear his desk of any old assignments and trash that were littering its surface. He had retrieved a ton of manila folders from his bookshelf and was ready to get organized when his eyes settled on a little blue flash drive sitting atop an unassuming pile of assignments. Tossing the manila folders onto his bed, he sat at his desk chair and plugged the flash drive into his laptop. 

The flash drive icon blipped onto the desktop screen. He opened the folder and discovered a singular mp4 file titled "Thank you, Jin". He dragged it out of the blue folder and onto his blank screen. He ejected the flash drive and held it in his fingers, rubbing the white masking tape affectionately with his thumb.

He let the noise fill the room. 

The notes blared to life across the laptop speakers. A simple melody, bearing with it the complexity of every human emotion that the two had ever shared together. Jin remembered the excitement in Yoongi's voice over the phone when he had called that one autumn afternoon, how insistent he was to show the piece that he had so lovingly crafted. Jin shut his eyes, smiling softly as he sank into the music and into his chair. He remembered how sad he had felt upon first listen, how lost he was in the face of all of it. There was too much love in every key change, in every dynamic, in every beat—too much love to comprehend. But now, it was like that sadness had disappeared, replaced with soothing, inviting salvation. 

Comfort embodied.

He had always felt comforted by Yoongi, he realized in that moment.

The song had ended, and he shut his laptop with a close. He left the manila folders laying on his bed, a reminder to come back to them later, as he stalked over to the wooden bookcase. Jin dragged the dusty keyboard from its spot behind the heavy wood and out into the open air, specks of musty grime kicking up with every tug on its plastic hull.

It was heavier than he last remembered, and a hell of a lot dustier than before, but he propped it up despite its size and plugged it into an outlet next to the open windows. He stared, arms tense on his lap, out at the keys in front of him. With the sleeve of his yellow sweatshirt, he wiped the dust off and flicked the power switch on, the digital panel in the center of the appliance burning green with the word "START" written in old analog font. It was amazing how an instrument could look so intimidating despite being so worse for wear.

It had been a while since he had last played by himself.

\---------------------------------------------------------

"Congratulations, Seokjin! You're growing up!" His mother said, picking up the little boy and scooping him into her arms. It was his seventh birthday, and the whole family was invited to their spacious abode for the festivities. It was less of a seven year old's birthday party and much more of a house tour than Jin would have liked, but he was quite used to being a cute decoration that he didn't mind at all. His parents promised him a big present that year if he was patient, so that was more than enough compensation for not having a party of his own. 

Little Jin wrapped his arms tight around his mother's neck, holding her close as she paraded him around to every visitor in sight. All of the adults pretended to be interested in him, asking him questions like "What's your favorite color, Jin?" "What do you like to eat; I'll make it for you next time we come over!" And superficial things like that. He would answer their questions quickly enough and return to his mother's arms, playing with her dangly pearl earrings that she said cost $4000. It's okay though, if he broke them. She could always buy another pair.

After she became tired from carrying him around all night, she sat him down at the grand piano in the gallery.

"Jin, why don't you play for us?" She said, with a commanding smile. His father, who was a little distance away, nodded in agreement.

He grabbed his favorite song from the music sheets and set them on the desk, readying his tiny hands to play the waltz from Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty.

"No, not that one, Jinnie. Play the 'fun' song that Daddy likes!" His mother interrupted. 'Fun' was code for 'impressive'. His dad liked things that shined, and Seokjin just happened to be one of those things.

He quickly switched the sheet music for that of Rimsky-Korsakov's famous Flight of the Bumblebee and set to work. Much like a worker bee, he played the song like a drone, hitting all of the technicalities and dynamics perfectly, without a hint of emotional error present in his rendition of the piece.

Playing piano used to be fun. At first, his parents suggested the idea and he obliged, being an obedient small child that had nothing else to do with his spare time. It wasn't that he loved playing piano. Rather, he loved the affection and praise it brought him.

Always the people pleaser, that one.

That was why it came as a huge shock to his parents when Jin decided that he would no longer be practicing piano. They assumed that it would only be a short phase, and he was promising enough in his studies to where they didn't really care at all if he quit everything hobby-oriented, but days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and months turned into years. They gave up on convincing him to start again, and they loved him just the same, so it didn't matter anyhow, whether or not he lost interest in something so trivial.

Quitting piano was the first step in realizing that he didn't have to live up to his public persona, but as they say, old habits die hard.

He met ####### in college, at a time when he had barely enough time for himself and he was on the brink between boredom and insanity. ####### taught him that he could—and should be—as horrible as possible. Darkness is what humans are accustomed to, is it not? But if this was what freedom from public pressure was like, then Jin didn't want any part of it. The whole cheating incident was his out, and though Jin still felt horribly chained to #######'s existence through a series of betrayals and insecurities, he would be lying if he didn't feel some sort of weight lift off of his shoulders. He no longer wanted to feel nothing together anymore. He wanted a taste of true, pure freedom.

Jin set his hands on the keyboard in his apartment. The open window was letting a cool breeze fill the room. The three potted plants in the corner were enjoying the breath of fresh air.

These feelings that he had, of being worthless, of being nothing, of being not deserving of anything. Anything at all. _They weren't his fault_. 

Jin's arms became slack as he let out a laugh. 

They were never his fault! There's no "what if I was better", "what if I were more perfect", "what if" "what if" what if" "what if"... He couldn't be anything more than what he was, take it or leave it. This was Jin, this is who he is, this is who he will be for the rest of his life.

_I forgive you. It may take me some time, weeks, months, even years, but I will forgive you._

I will forgive _me_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a really self-indulgent chapter. I hope you all become like Jin and remember to forgive yourself too!


	14. What is Love, Anyway?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding out what love is.

The digital keyboard sat idle in front of Jin, who had been racking his brain for the longest time on what he should do to write the perfect response song.

No specific melody was coming to mind. 

Perhaps he could invert the tune? No, that would sound janky unless it was purposeful. Should it be bright? No, that wouldn't be an accurate reflection of their time together, nor would it be his style. Should it be somber? No, not really. He didn't want to be any more depressed than he already was.

So many different ideas filtered through his head, a flurry of concepts and thoughts clashing and clinking like a falling pyramid of wine glasses, knocked over by the slightest touch. There were so many things he wanted to say and not enough words—or melodies—to say them. He pressed the keys aimlessly, hoping that by some miracle they would form one cohesive song, one cohesive thought. He wanted the song to show how wonderfully vulnerable Yoongi had made him feel, the anxiety that came with the potential of not being loved back, the fear that he had just lost an important friendship, but all of these thoughts were exactly that: just thoughts. Thoughts that he was unable to figure out for himself, much less put down to paper in the form of abstract notes.

When he eventually became bored and frustrated from his lack of talent, he left the keyboard plugged in and resumed his days' assignments, organizing his desk and other chores that probably shouldn't be left for later. He kept circling around the piano, wondering if he had the inspiration now to sit down and come up with something ingenuitive, but he found that he was never in the right headspace.

Night had come quickly, and his apartment was drowning in darkness aside from the singular string of light fixtures glaring in his kitchen. Around this time, Jin would usually send Yoongi a goodnight text, wishing him sweet dreams and good luck in all of his endeavors, but he was feeling so horribly embarrassed and distraught that he couldn't even bring himself to touch his phone. 

Oh well. Another time, then.

\--------------------------------------------

Yoongi had become so focused on his practice that nothing could faze him anymore. Not the loud laughter of students rushing out of the classroom buildings. Not the squawking of the pigeons outside of his window. Not even the janitor who kept obnoxiously scream-singing songs as he mopped the floors, ignorantly believing that all the students had already left campus and being too deaf to hear the sounds of the piano coming from practice room 304.

Yoongi was alone, but not lonely. He had the piano to keep him company, as it had been all of these years. He learned to take solace where he could find it, even if he was still impossibly bitter and heartbroken over the way Jin left. He had not heard from him in a while, but maybe Yoongi wasn't ready to hear from him just yet either.

Instead, he had the big competition to serve as his distracter for the time being. If he placed first, he would get the chance of a lifetime to study abroad in Germany, a chance to start doing what he loved for the rest of his life. That was incentive enough to focus on practice and to get his ass in gear, no matter how much he missed the stupid, troublesome Jin who kept invading his mind and thoughts.

Taking a momentary break, he slipped on his grey hoodie and walked towards the café at the edge of campus, their very first "date" spot, although they didn't consider it one at the time. He would simply get his iced americano, take a seat somewhere on the establishment while he drank it, and then go back for some more practice. Easy, right?

When he walked through the glass doors of the café and the little yellow bell announced his presence, he noticed the long line that was snaking through the building, each customer impatiently tapping their feet against the floor, scrolling through their phone, or talking to the person standing in line next to them. 

Drat. This would take some time.

He checked his notifications—to which he found, there were none—and slipped his phone right back into his jean pocket. He gazed out at the patronage scattered about the café. Everyone looked so busy, chatting amongst each other if they were not typing erratically on their laptops or scribbling hurriedly onto their notebooks. The stress of exam season was upon them, and the high amount of espresso orders seemed to reflect that fact very well. Yoongi drummed on his thighs, the rhythm of Liebestraum no. 3, almost unconsciously. His muscle memory seemed to not want to forget the very thing he had been dedicating himself towards for all these weeks of practice.

Yoongi had now arrived at the front of the line, palms sweaty and clutched around his beat up leather wallet.

"Next, please!" The bouncy barista said from behind the counter with a plastered grin, their brunette ponytail swaying with each press on the buttons of the cashier machine. Yoongi moved forward.

"Uh... yeah. One iced americano, please," Yoongi said, his voice coming out in a low whisper. Once the barista finished punching in whatever they were punching in, the behind-the-counter employee gestured for his payment. Yoongi shoved a five dollar bill across the counter and stood there, waiting for the barista to return his change. Ripping out the receipt and holding a few coins and bills in hand, the barista gave Yoongi his order number and sent him on his merry way. 

Rounding the corner to the outdoor seating area, he looked out at the setting sun, the fairy lights just now flickering on, signaling that the night had come. Buzzer in hand, he leaned back in his seat and folded his arms. He felt the wind wash over his face, the coolness of the afternoon atmosphere intermingling with the warm scent of buttered croissants and muffins. Soon enough, an employee rushed outside with the cold drink in hand, called out "Order number 34!", and Yoongi ran up and retrieved it, bowing slightly in thanks as he returned to his seat.

With coffee in his system, Yoongi finally had a moment of peace for himself, without thinking of anything, important or unnecessary or otherwise. It was him, his coffee, and the sunset. He wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Okay, _maybe_ he would've wanted it one other way.

Headed inside to exit through the front entrance, Yoongi passed through the indoor seating area, an odd array of leather couches and bean bags and an assortment of mixed chairs littering the space. He took notice of an empty spot on the leather loveseat, the same spot where Yoongi and Jin sat when they last frequented the establishment. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he continued on, a pain spreading from his lungs to his throat.

He carried on despite whatever was welling up under his tongue and deep inside his chest and trekked across campus, the once beautiful trees bursting with color now barren of leaves. The chilly air nipped at his ears, which he tugged on his hoodie strings to remedy, eliminating the space between his ears and hood. Clutching his almost-empty drink with his sweater paws, he quickened his pace, eager to get inside to the warm practice room, ready to start working again towards his dream.

He slid the door open, eyes instinctively checking the seat by the window to see if someone was sitting in it. He did this every day, but it didn't make it hurt any less when the fact was confirmed just the same.

His eyes then scoured the room and settled on a desk sitting behind the piano in the center of the space. On its surface was a heat-sealed lunch pack and three bags of salt and vinegar chips—his _favorite_ kind. He walked over to the strange lunch pack, unzipping it open and finding a pack of cold guava juice, condensation beginning to appear on their aluminum surfaces.

A smile spread across his face as he opened one and took a long, needed swig.

\--------------------------------------------

Jin was still busying himself with classwork and assignments and whatever else he could get his hands on to avoid writing that damned song. He stood confidently next to the keyboard hooked up to the outlet, trying to make himself look bigger than he felt, because maybe, if he adjusted his own position relative to that keyboard, _just maybe_ , he would be able to conquer that nasty bit of writer's block—songwriter's block?—that had been plaguing him for the better part of all of last week. Jin was just realizing now, after days of hard labor, that Yoongi had made it look so much easier than it actually was (plus he had the added benefit of _actually_ being a music major). This was something he was dedicating his life towards, and for Jin, it was nothing more than a passing whim—a _strong_ passing whim, but a whim nonetheless.

At this point in time, he had devised a melody to work around and build upon, but any harmonies he tried to add or layer weren't coming to him easily. Before the incident, he would have likely called Yoongi to help him along in the enterprise, but he was beginning to understand that he had hurt him enough, and that there was no way in hell that he would be willing to confront his own bubbling feelings rising to surface, much less come to terms with the fact that Yoongi might _actually_ be in love with him after all. All of that emotional mess, he was saving for the song.

If only he could _write_ the song in the first place, maybe he would bring himself to see Yoongi again.

Something from within him grumbled, and he looked down at his own stomach. It was probably a good time to get some lunch.

He pulled on his long overcoat, the color of light brown like the crust of a freshly baked pumpkin pie. He wrapped his red silk scarf around his neck and walked out into the biting cold to the convenience store just down the block, huffing and puffing warm breaths into the atmosphere as he jostled along the sidewalk. The metal door opened with a clang, and the part-time teenage worker gave a gentle nod as they continued to chew their bubblegum, clearly unenthused by the whole capitalist shebang and uncaring as to whether or not people would call them out on such unseemly behavior at the workplace. Jin rounded the aisles and picked out some quick snacks as well as some last minute groceries. The fridge back home was looking a little empty.

He made his way to the chip aisle, eyes searching up and down for honey butter chips, but the label where they would usually be showed that other customers had already purchased them all.

No worries, he could always get anoth-

His eyes fell upon a bright blue bag, the color of a clear sky on a hot summer day. In white, bold lettering, on its side were the words 'Salt and Vinegar Flavor'. It didn't sound all that appetizing to Jin, but it surely reminded him of a particular someone. 

A someone who would eat these things like they were the Gods' ambrosia. A someone who would sit on the floor of his dorm in front of an open textbook or a keyboard or a TV screen, leaning back on his hands as he focused on whatever he was focusing on—it didn't really matter wha—and shoved the golden crisps into his open mouth, the same color as his golden hair. A someone who Jin loved to see wear that adorable gummy smile as the crumbs rolled off of his cheeks and onto the floor, not even the slightest bit angry that someone would have to vacuum those crumbs up eventually, and that someone would sometimes be Jin.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he picked it up to read a notification for an email from one of teachers, cancelling class for the next day. He swiped it away, revealing his lock screen picture. He hadn't changed it despite all of the weeks that had passed. 

Frozen in time, Yoongi stood dazed underneath the gleaming lights, an array of colors—just as bright, if not more so, than the lights—dancing across his features. If Jin looked close enough, it seemed as though they were moving, the lights swinging as the fixture swung, the room moving underneath clouds of lilacs, of deep indigos, of highlighter yellows, of Christmas greens. But despite the movement of the screen that Jin so idiotically imagined, one person remained still, transfixed in pixels and in time. That white smile and those lovely brown eyes. 

Jin could melt in them for days on end.

(Or maybe, he was already melting in them, for all he knew.)

He lunged for the blue bags, not once, not twice, but three times, then stalked over to the refrigerator doors, bottles and bottles and more bottles stacked from top to bottom in their icy cases. He was tempted to reach for the sodas, but remembered that Yoongi didn't quite like sugary things, nor things that could easily upset his stomach, so he grabbed a pack of guava juice instead—just sweet enough where Yoongi wouldn't hate him for making such a choice.

The clutter of items in his arms, he brought to the front of the store, setting them down on the white countertops, ready for purchase. The weight from his shoulders was now exchanged to his heart.

He smiled absently at the items he was about to buy, a warmth spreading all throughout his body. 

_He had found his answer._

This longing and aching that had been building up in his chest... _That_ is what love is. The want to see Yoongi be happy no matter what. The desire to just be around him. The feeling of ease Jin gets when he sees his smiling face, on his phone or in real life. That is love. And that is enough.

Love isn't special. It isn't how many times you call them or how many iced coffees they buy for you or stupid books they send to you as birthday gifts.

Love is love is love is love. It doesn't have to be anything more. It just _is_. 

Jin understood suddenly what Yoongi meant, understands _everything_. And that's when guilt starts to weigh on his conscience.

He had just told Yoongi, like it was nothing at all, that he didn't love him. That Yoongi couldn't have possibly... loved him. 

He would have to make it up to him somehow, apologize for his actions, for being a little bitch, because let's face it, he _was_ one. There wasn't enough words in the world to describe how sorry he felt in that moment, but that would come at another time. He glanced down at the snacks he had picked out for himself, how they didn't match any of his tastes at all, and how they did match that someone else's taste to a T. 

Maybe this could be Jin's way of apologizing, although temporary, because he would definitely have to say it in a person some other time. This was enough, though, for now.

He laughed as the employee busily scanned all of the items that he so clunkily set down, shoving them all into a large brown bag, and the juices into their own heat-sealed bag. It was like scoffing to himself and the insane way his mind worked, the sound of his laughter mixing with the clanking of coins in the cash register.

He would have to make do with the snacks he had at home.

He exited the shop, the store bags settled on his wrists, the cold air hitting him just as soon as he walked outside. With a lingering touch, he gleaned over the bright blue of the chip bag and chuckled once more.

_Maybe love is pack of cold juice and chips._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end, everyone! Thank you for accompanying me on this journey. I hope you're excited for everything that's about to come!


	15. Liebestraum no. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The competition has finally arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone, and happy holidays to all who do not celebrate it! I thought it was fitting to post this chapter on Christmas Day, and sorry for not responding to everyone’s lovely comments. I was so busy with finals and with perfecting this chapter that I got a tad bit overwhelmed. Hopefully, this ending suits all of that hard work. Do forgive me, and do enjoy!

The sound of heels clicking against tiles. The sound of flickering TV sets tuned to the stage. The sound of anxious college students beating and drumming against their thighs, music sheets or books spread in front of them in a last attempt to ingrain their selected piece into their hands, calming the nerves as well as retroactively making them even more nervous for the competition that had finally arrived.

Yoongi was hunched over in a black plastic chair pressed up against the wall. Staff with clipboards and awkward, ginormous headsets power-walked through the halls backstage, taking attendance of all of the participants and overall making sure that the program ran as smoothly as possible. Several participants had already presented their piece, and from their sheer talent, it was clear that the stakes were astronomically high.

Yoongi's attention turned to the screens in front of him, a set of three televisions hooked up together, rubber cords spilling from their back panels, all displaying different camera angles of the same girl playing her final piece, Mozart's Piano Sonata in D Major. In a vibrant red floor-length dress, her hair pulled into a tight bun, her hands made quick work of the keys in front of her. Like a puppeteer, the notes moved and sung at her command. All of the competitors demonstrated this tenacity and passion, their desire to win amplifying their music and tone. It was clear that the speakers from the televisions didn't do their magic any justice.

Intermission came earlier than Yoongi thought it would, and so too did his turn, being next in line to play after the break. The competition started at around 4:00 pm, and it was just now almost 8:00. The sun had most definitely set by now, but Yoongi wouldn't be able to tell, due to the absence of windows in the stark white hallways behind the stage. Everyone had left briefly, bar a few participants, to get a quick meal before the competition moved along. One kind staff member stayed behind and bought snacks for the leftover students, sitting unopened on the white fold-up table. Yoongi couldn't touch the stuff, instead chewing on the corner of his lip until it was almost raw, unsure of what to do with all of the pent up energy inside of him.

He sat there for a while, trying not to let the anxiety invade his mind, his right foot tapping relentlessly against the floor, when he heard a ping from his phone.

It was from Jin.

With lightning fast fury, he swiped open the message, his heart pounding in his chest, his fingers touching the phone lightly like it was the most precious thing in the world. The message only contained two words, "Good luck!", followed by an mp4 file attachment titled, "Thank you, Yoongi". He swiftly slid two earbuds into his ears as his index finger hovered over the play button, unexpectedly shaking as his fingertip met the smooth screen.

A voice rang out.

"Hey. It's me, Jin, if you couldn't already tell, considering I'm going to send you this over text." A small chuckle made its way over the phone's speakers. "Ahem. Anyways, I've been too scared to talk to you lately, and I'm sorry for leaving you in radio silence these past few weeks. It's just that... I've been working on something. And I wanted to show it to you, but I was too afraid. I guess that's how I've always been." He said, breathing a sigh. "But I was thinking that, you must be afraid right now too, you know, since it's the grand competition and all." He paused. "Listen. I'm sorry, and I don't know how to say it enough, and I can't bring myself to say it in person either—not yet, that is—so I made this. It's nowhere near perfection, but I thought you might need it today." In a soft whisper, Jin uttered the last lines. "Thank you, Yoongi. For everything. This is for you."

There was a little scuffle in the audio, a sign that the phone was moving to a different place. A clunk, and the noise had stopped. A small inhale could be heard, and then, a soft voice.

Yoongi had never heard Jin sing before, at least not fully. The most Yoongi could garner of the latter's musical ability was from humming as he labored over pots of soup or frying pans whenever they hung out together. But not like this. Never like this.

That smooth honey-like voice he had often heard when Jin was being too nice for words had commingled with the melody of a piano to create something extraordinary. Whether the forming feeling was from Jin's hidden talent or from Yoongi's own hidden longing, he did not know. It was a simple repeating melody, a melody enough for a couple of verses, but it was lovely anyways because it was from Jin, the person who he had wanted to see so desperately these past few weeks. He could hear that voice again through that little black box, those sweet sounds traveling up through the cords and into his ears. He had never heard him sing before, but he would do anything to hear him sing again.

When the song had ended, more scuffling was heard as Jin ended the recording. Instead of sounds emitting from the phone speaker, now, footsteps resounded through the hallways as the competitors and staff had returned from their short break, clamoring to finish the competition off. Yoongi turned off his phone and shoved it into his bag, pulling out his music sheets as he stood up from his chair.

Intermission may have been over, but his performance was just about to begin.

"Competitor Min Yoongi, please make your way to the stage wing in five." 

With a nod, he walked with purpose to the stage doors. The time Jin had spent on him would not go to waste today. 

He straightened his tie, made sure his sheet music was in the correct order, and tightened the laces of his shoes one last time. He stood behind the red curtain, waiting for the MC to finish their speech and to introduce him to the stage. When he heard clapping from the audience and saw the MC greet him and walk to the right beyond his view, Yoongi took the cue and started the long walk from the anonymity of backstage to the gleaming limelight behind the grand piano.

Yoongi had done this same thing many times before, and yet, actually approaching the grand instrument always felt so new and unfamiliar. Whether it was nerves or excitement, he couldn't quite say, but it didn't mean he didn't love the feeling any less. He bowed to the audience before taking his seat.

It's just three pieces. Three pieces, and then you're done. You can do this.

Yoongi wasn't the superstitious type, as many competition-oriented musicians often were, but when he felt the most nervous, sometimes it was okay to call for a little luck from the fates. He pressed both hands gently to his lips, instilling in them his love for music and all of his faith. They would take him where he needed to go. He would trust them, as he had for years.

With one final breath, he set his hands against the keyboard and began his ascent to Heaven with Liebestraum no. 1.

The opening notes recalled the dim beams of moonlight filtering down through the translucent curtains of practice room 304. A soft, lilting melody to ease the audience into what was to come. As he closed his eyes, he remembered the vast expanse of the mural before him that night in the museum, feathery angels battling lava-ridden devils. The subdued tones of the light and quick arpeggios soon gave way to an elevation of the notes, Yoongi's hands thudding against the keys, the sound getting louder and louder. Feet against concrete. Feet against tiles. Feet meeting cool golden pedals underneath the crook of the piano. The notes melted away at his touch, the strength that they had leaving the keys and soaring into the air above the stage, wafting towards the audience. They twinkled and shone and faded with the tremolos that escaped the hull of the piano, a starry night sky painted in their mind's eye. That cool look of Jin leaning against the doorway as the moon shone down, sweat running down the sides of his face as he chased after the shadowy figure of Yoongi in the dark. A gentle smile, and the notes descended back down to earth as Yoongi's hands moved down the piano. Everything was soft once again, enveloping the crowd in its warmth like a blanket, a sweet ending lullaby that finished the song.

There was a pause as he arranged Liebestraum no. 2 on the music desk. In classical performances like these, the audience never makes any noise or sort of feedback until the entire performance is over. It was deadly quiet, but Yoongi was used to it. Everyone had collectively held their breath until Yoongi sat down once again, hands pressed and ready.

Unlike the gentle nature of the first piece, Liebestraum no. 2 started off passionately. Feverous, frenzied, his fingers moved across the keys emotionally, almost recklessly. In his eyes, he saw Jin curled up underneath his arms, Jin's chest folded over on his legs after a duet gone wrong. His shallow breath as his lungs heaved. His bright eyes as he turned to look up at Yoongi, a slight flush on his face after laughing so hard. A burning love filled the space between Yoongi's heart and lungs, the cavity in his chest becoming heavy with fluid and head dizzy with thoughts. The jumping staccato of the notes on the bass clef were not so dissimilar to the beating of his heart. 

With a low tone, the song had concluded, and silence returned once again. Sweat had began to bead on his forehead as the judges shuffled in their seats, leaning forward.

The finale piece, Liebestraum no. 3. You better make this one count.

The notes descended like a wave, rushing forward, overwhelming and overpowering. With his left hand, instead of his right, the lower tones of the piano carried the melody while the upper tones crafted a fairy-like atmosphere. The notes built up slowly, gradually, in complexity, his hands flicking upwards and jumping across keys as he had to reach further and further away, swimming through the sea of black and white. The strain of the music was evident from the sweat on his brow, his teeth clenched as his head throbbed from keeping up with the tempo, his brain running on overdrive to keep up with his hands. 

Just as the anxiety seemed to get to him, an image flashed in his head: the moment he first met Jin, this exact song marking their fated friendship. Jin sobbing in his arms. Their first embrace was so gentle and innocent, and every single touch from that moment on felt like ecstasy. How he longed to hold him again.To feel skin against skin.

Yoongi continued to let the notes rain down from his fingertips, his melancholy and his yearning intermingling onto the keys. A song that felt exactly like what love was, no need for imagining. The notes clamored together, building up until the emotion flooded from the piano, over the bounds of the stage and into the audience, the sound booming as all of his fingers pressed tight into chords and loosened into falling arpeggios. Yoongi's foot pressed against the golden pedal like his life depended on it, sustaining the notes and making them last.

Liebestraum no. 3 was no longer Liszt's, but his.

It didn't matter if Jin didn't love him back. It didn't matter if his feelings wouldn't ever be returned. So long as he can see that face again, and hear that honey-sweet, grating-chalkboard voice of Jin's, it all will have been worth it.

Yoongi's hands traveled slower and slower across the keyboard, the tempo calming down as the piece hit its resolution stage. The melody now carried by the right hand's higher values, the piece came to a close on a peaceful note.

The sounds of the piano now ceased, Yoongi was left at the edge of the piano bench, his hands still clinging to the white keys, unable to let himself let go. 

First, silence. 

Then, a couple of claps. 

Then, a thunderous applause.

His head turned to face the audience, all of whom were rising from their seats to proclaim their exclamations. His heart beating rapidly in his chest, he wished for only one thing: to call Jin.

Be sure that your heart burns

And holds and keeps love

As long as another heart beats warmly

With its love for you

And if someone bears his soul to you

Love him back as best you can

Yoongi rose from his own seat, bowed towards the audience quickly, and left the stage. He could still hear the rumbling of the audience, the afterglow, from back in his plastic chair, but he ignored all of the extra sensory input, his hands trembling as he pulled out his phone. His chest was heavy with excitement, lightheaded and dizzy. The white lights seemed to flicker above him as he reached out to press the call button.

But his eyes closed, and he fell unconscious in his seat.

——————————————————

"Hello?Are you okay?"

An on-site paramedic greeted him with a concerned look on their face.He had passed out for a good 20 minutes when other competitors started to get worried that he really wasn't just sleeping, prompting the personnel to keep a good watch on him during the remainder of his unconscious existence.The staff member explained this to him, to which he nodded and adjusted himself until he was sitting upright.He was given a cold water bottle to rest against his head in the meantime, and was informed that the awards ceremony would start momentarily.

His heart skipped a beat.

After taking a quick sip of his water, he set it down against the tiles and rushed over to the curtains backstage, where the rest of the competitors were waiting patiently. He took a peek at the stage to find the competition organizers arranging all of the awards and medals on a white plastic table, the metal luster reflecting the glow of the stage lights above.Other staff members were wrangling a podium to the right of the stage for the MC to stand as he announced the winners.

Yoongi gulped.

It was time.

The MC breezed past the college-aged students, cue cards in hand. 

This would be quick. They would announce the top ten, with the top three all winning the opportunity to study abroad in Germany, and then everyone would go home.It was easy, right?

10.

He watched as the first girl entered the stage, a weak smile on her face as sweat graced her forehead. She accepted the medal and certificate with grace and without incident.

9.

A student in a suit shook hands with the MC somewhat awkwardly as he received his award.

8.

Another student politely accepted the 8th place prize.

7.

Yoongi was beginning to panic. His palms were sweaty enough from his time on stage, and, obviously, from passing out. Was his performance good enough?

6.

Would all of those weeks of work go down the drain?

5.

Wouldn't it be funny if he didn't place at all? If he didn't even manage to score in the top ten?

4.

The next three winners would get to go to Germany. He closed his eyes tight as another name got called and another competitor's footsteps led away from him.

3.

Not his name. It's not his name. He could feel the blood rushing to his ears. Was he always so nervous before results like this?

2.

Damn it. The girl who placed second was amazing. How could he beat her? At this rate, he should just give up. There's no use in pretending. He's tried his best, and that's all that matters.He should be content with what he-

"And the champion of the Seoul Regional Tournament is..."

Wow, when did it get so hot in here? Everything felt so stifling, so uncomfortable in that moment during the pause. The lights were a little too bright. His dress shoes were a little too tight. His hair was feeling a little too long.

"Contestant Number 34! Min Yoongi!"

Relief. Utter and complete relief. 

He stepped out from the curtain, shook the MC's hands as he was met with the audience's applause. The judges lined up behind him, one of them handing him a bouquet of red roses, another handing him the first place prize. He stood under the spotlight, a smile plastered on his face as the competitors lined up for photos. He would get an email later that week, organizing his enrollment in the academy as well as his fully-paid scholarship.

He had made it. 

He was going to Germany.

But still, Yoongi had a one-track mind. 

He grabbed his belongings and rushed out through the back entrance, settling onto the stairs leading out to the parking lot. Competitors and visitors were mostly exiting through the main entrance, so he was certain that his goal could be accomplished without fail.

With shaky hands, he pulled out his phone one more time, hitting the dial button. He pressed the overheated phone against his ear, the monotonous beeping signaling that Jin had yet to pick up.

A cracked voice. 

“Hello?"

"Jin..." Yoongi whispered. The frost was biting at his fingers and his lips, but the warmth that filled him when he heard Jin's voice was more than enough to make up for it.

"Yes, what is it?"

"I won," he whispered.

"What? I can't hear you. Speak up, please."

"I won." Yoongi said firmly, as though trying to convince himself, not Jin, that it was the truth.

"Oh, that's... great news! Congratulations! I told you you'd win, didn't I?" Though they were not videocalling, Yoongi knew that Jin was smiling as he said this.

It was silent as Yoongi attempted to catch his breath. Jin let him.

"I'm going to Germany," he continued.

"...You're what?!" 

You'd think that such an important fact would have come up by now, in conversation, but Yoongi wasn't the type to trouble anyone with the useless details.

"That's the prize. I won, so I get to go to Germany."

"...Oh." It was silent on the other end of the line. "Huh... Now I know why that competition was so important to you," he muttered in response, still audible over the call.

"I'll be gone for at least a couple of months, until spring arrives."

The silence was palpable.They didn’t make any moves during the conversational intermission.

Jin spoke up. "Actually... I went to see you. At the concert hall."

"You what?!?!"

"I grabbed the setlist and watched you play. It was a spur of the moment kind of deal, but I knew I had to see you." A light chuckle carried over the phone speaker. "I knew I had seen your skill in the practice room, but it was a whole different experience actually seeing you perform perform.You looked amazing up there."

"Wait." Yoongi's movements became erratic. He leaped up from his seat on the steps, his phone still held close to his ear as he searched the premises and each passing face. "Are you still here?"

"No... no. I left as soon as you finished. Like I said, I already knew you would win, so there wasn't any use in staying and watching the other performances. Just seeing you was enough."

"Oh."

A return to silence. A lack of communication over the past few weeks had clearly dealt a blow to their conversational skills.

"I... don't know what to say," Jin said.

"You don't have to say anything."

"No. No!" Jin's tone was desperate. "I want to say something. It was... unlike anything I've ever heard before."

"Hah. That's what exactly I thought when I first heard you play."

"Oh really?" Jin laughed. "That's so like you."

Jin was about to say something more when Yoongi interrupted, worried that he'd miss his chance. 

It was now, or it was never.

"Before you go, or do anything else, I just wanted to say that I love you." He said the three words for the second time ever, certainty in his voice like he had practiced saying them over and over and over for when the time was finally right—the time being now.

He saw the breath escape from his own mouth, warming the cool night air in puffs of steam.He heard the sound of Jin shuffling in his seat from over the speaker, but Jin didn't make any attempt to interject this time.

"And I know... that what I feel is love. It doesn't have to be special for me to know that it is, and that the way you make me feel is love. The way I melt in your presence. Every moment with you is so comfortable, like I don't have to try hard or pretend, and if I do try hard, it's because I want to and not because I have to. I would be lying to you if I said that I didn’t think of you every single time I play the Liebestraums. Your memory is always with me, no matter where I go or what I do. I love you, Jin. Really. Truly. I love you, so much, and there's no way in hell that it's anything less."

A rising feeling fell upon his throat, his breathing growing heavier and heavier. 

"I hope this doesn't come across as rude,” Jin interjected.“But... are you done?"

Yoongi nodded, unable to get the words out.

Jin hesitated before continuing. "...I have a weird feeling that you just nodded, but you know that I can't see you, right?"

"Oh."

Jin’s honey-sweet voice returned as he laughed his golden laugh. Yoongi missed that laugh.“That's really so like you."

Yoongi was still as he listened to sound of Jin's voice.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, and I can't seem to say it enough because I am and I'm sorry. For invalidating your feelings, and for invalidating my own. Ever since I've met you, I've been confused. Like, really confused. I've been told my whole life that I'm not enough, that I should just settle and give up and come to terms with the fact that I'm useless. But then... you came into my life. You always worked so hard. You looked up to me for once, instead of looking down on me. Our conversations were always easy, and comfort was surprisingly just so uncomfortable."

He laughed.

"I'll be honest: I wasn't used to being with someone like you. Someone who made me want to challenge myself and love me as I was.So I really didn't believe it when you said that you loved me. I always thought love was supposed to be magnificent, and life changing, and philosophical. But in it's own way, this ordinary love that we have is philosophical enough.

"I took the break to analyze my feelings, how much I really do care for you, though at the time I didn't want to realize that it was love, that I just didn't want to be hurt again. But you would never hurt me, and it just wasn't the same without you. But let's not get too hasty. I love you too, and I know it, but while I know that I love you, I also want to love me! Please don't hate me for not wanting to rush into things."

"You know I could never hate you," Yoongi said.

"Thank you. I knew you would understand," Jin sighed, relieved. "Plus the complicated situation with you leaving for Germany and all that. So... please give me time.”

He paused once more.

“Will you wait for me?"

"For however long it takes?" Yoongi asked, teasingly. "Always."

"You're cheesy."

"You say that every time."

"I love it, though." The air had grown comfortable between them, now that the heavy words had been unloaded off of their chests. "Heh... it's kinda funny."

"What's funny?"

"I'm the one waiting for your return from Germany but I want you to wait for me."

"Yeah, I guess it is odd.”Yoongi blushed.

"Ah... the moment's ruined now. I should've just kept my mouth shut."

"No, no! I love hearing what you have to say,” Yoongi said, quickly.

"You're too sweet." Another pause. "Now hang up before this conversation gets any more awkward."

"Okay..." Yoongi hesitated to end the call, his finger hovering over the red end button. "I love you," he whispered once more, his voice tickling the inside of Jin's ear. The magic of those three words would never fade.

"Love you too, stupid." Jin said it so easily, that Yoongi almost believed that he was in a dream, until Jin’s next words brought him back to reality. "Now HANG. UP."

"Alright, alright." He pressed the end call button, feeling much lighter than he had in weeks.

He leaned back on his hands as he stretched his legs across the concrete steps, his trophy and his bouquet unperturbed next to him.Taking in the winter chills, he listened intently to the Christmas music all around him, the Christmas lights from the cities and neighborhoods glimmering just down the hillside.

He had completely forgotten that it was Christmas.

On a cold day like this, warmth surrounded him, whether from the tremendous win or from the carolers making their way through the streets.It was a perfect winter, and yet, he couldn't wait for spring to arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has come to an end. Thank you for all who had followed its development and to all of my wonderful readers who write such nice comments for me. I love each and every one of you, and hope you continue to support me by checking out my other fic “Oh My Gods!” that is a modern fantasy centering around Taejin. With that, this has concluded the Music to my Ears journey. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!


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